Stormbringer
by VicPez
Summary: The defenders of Redwall must decide whether to go to assist Lord Rocketh and his Long Patrol in defending Mossflower from the Stormrats - a menace that they thought vanquished seasons ago.
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: Redwall is the work of Brian Jacques. The places, characters, and plots of the Redwall books belong to him.  
  
Andrew tugged his cloak tightly around himself, and willed the rain to stop falling. The wind, too, made him uncomfortable, but it was the rain that made his clothing damp and caused every fierce gust of wind to feel more cold than it actually was.  
  
I should've listened to dad and waited to leave Redwall, thought the young mouse. If he had waited for the storm to pass, he would probably have been able to Hake's dwelling without too much delay. After all, five days visiting Hake was five days, no matter when he set out. But Andrew had insisted on leaving that afternoon, bidding farewell to his father and his friends and carrying only his sword and a pack of provisions.  
  
The young mouse regretted his decision now, though. Even if he didn't become sick from the cold, his journey would be miserable. The icy winds and rain were already chilling him to the bone, and the night was only just beginning. But if he could find some short of shelter... Andrew squinted and swept his gaze across the woodlands. If he could find somewhere, anywhere, to take shelter, he could escape from the wind and rain and resume his journey to see Hake in the morning.  
  
Unfortunately for Andrew, he couldn't find any place to hide from the elements. The mouse bit out a curse and drew his cloak even tighter around his body, and continued to make his way through Mossflower Woods. He had traveled along this route many times in his life, accompanied by his father Cain or Hake when he was younger, and eventually traveling the paths himself when Hake and Redwall's Champion, a squirrel named Gormin, judged him capable of defending himself at the age of twelve seasons.  
  
After several more minutes of walking, Andrew came to a halt. A large tree had fallen across his path, and though Andrew could have easily made his way around it, he saw his chance to take shelter beneath it. After taking the time to make sure the tree would not fall on him if he were to stay underneath it, he crawled through some of the branches and took shelter from the wind. Most of the rain still found its way to him, but the shelter was better than staying out in the storm.  
  
Andrew had no idea how much time had passed when he heard footsteps moving along the muddy path. The falling raindrops drowned most of the sound out, but Andrew could still distinguish the sound of walking. Cautiously, Andrew pulled himself out of his shelter and looked through the tree's branches in the direction of the footsteps.  
  
In the dark of night, he could only make out the vague shape of a hare walking slowly in the opposite direction of that he had been traveling in. Most hares in these parts were trustworthy, and this one was coming from the direction of Salamandastron. But being cautious had never hurt Andrew before, and he quietly drew his sword and sat waiting for the hare to approach the fallen tree.  
  
But it seemed that Andrew hadn't been quiet enough to escape the hare's hearing. The shadowy figure stopped in its tracks, and drew a weapon from its belt. "Show yourself an' I'll spare your life!" exclaimed the hare, crouching and holding the blade in front of itself. "I'm warnin' you, I'm a fair fighter, an' a member or Lord Rocketh's Long Patrol at that! If you come out peaceably, I'll think about sparin' your life!"  
  
Andrew showed himself and held his sword out in front of him. "I'm Andrew, a mouse of Redwall Abbey. I'm a traveler, and have had the misfortune of being caught in this storm. I don't mean for any trouble, but if you want a fight, I can give you one."  
  
"Would you be Cain's son?" asked the hare. The figure lowered its blade, and stepped closer to Andrew. He relaxed his hold on his sword, but stayed wary of the hare. "I fought alongside your mother an' father seven seasons ago, during the Stormrat War. Cain was a great swordsbeast, an' your mother Kelly was talented with a scimitar. A mighty shame she met her end durin' that war - she would've wanted to see you grow into a fine young mouse."  
  
The death of his mother was a topic that brought feelings of grief to Andrew's heart, but he didn't let the hare know that. "You're... Candice. My father speaks highly of you, and says that it was because of you that he survived the war. I never expected to meet you in the middle of Mossflower Wood. Where are you headed?"  
  
Seeing that the young mouse had recognize him, Candice stepped back and made a running jump over the trunk of the fallen tree. "I'm bound for Redwall Abbey. Lord Rocketh wanted me to take a message to your Abbess, an' I'm one o' the fastest hares in the patrol. But I'm curious about why an Abbeybeast such as yourself would be travelin' through this gloomy weather. You could end up dead from the bally cold!"  
  
"I'm journeying to meet up with my friend Hake. He's a warriormouse, and my father says that he was the beast who taught him how to fight. He took me to meet Hake a couple seasons ago, when Redwall's Champion, Gormin, decided that I was learning faster than my friends and needed someone else to teach me. My father couldn't, since he is Gormin's assistant, so he asked Hake to train me. I've been working with him for four seasons now, and I've been able to fend for myself in the better parts of Mossflower for a season and a half." A note of pride crept into Andrew's voice as he said that last sentence.  
  
A smile spread across Candice's face as she listened to Andrew. "You sound skilled for your age, but don't go thinkin' that you can take down a Long Patrol hare. An' I'd recommend stayin' away from vermin, for a while at least. No need to risk your fur to do what other beasts can do themselves, wot!" Candice put on an air of confidence as she said this, but something about her voice told Andrew that there was something worrying her.  
  
"Here, take my cloak," said Candice, taking off her own cloak and giving it to Andrew. "You look chilled t' the bone, and havin' only one layer o' protection from the elements certainly isn't helpin' you. I'd stay here and make sure you didn't catch fever, but Lord Rocketh's message was quite urgent, an' I don't think he'd appreciate me wastin' my time. If I had been runnin' instead of travelin' at this slow pace, I'd've been far past here by now!" When Andrew tried to refuse the cloak that Candice offered, the hare shook her head and shoved it firmly into his hands. "Don't be ridiculous!" scolded the hare whiled bouncing on her footpaws. "Like I said, I'm a hare of the Long Patrol. We're used to runnin' in any sort o' weather. I should be goin'. By fur, I should've been gone already!" With one last concerned glance at Andrew, Candice turned in the direction that she had been headed and galloped off. In a few moments, the dark swallowed her retreating figure.  
  
Shivering, Andrew ducked back into the shelter the tree provided. He wrapped Candice's cloak around him, and it did help protect him from the wind. But the dampness still soaked through his clothing, and when he closed his eyes, he had trouble sleeping. It was only when the howling winds and the rain began to die down that he was able to drift off into a fitful sleep.  
  
~~~  
  
At Redwall Abbey, the storm wasn't so lenient. Instead of dying down as it had in Mossflower Woods, it only increased its ferocity. Many beasts tossed and turned in their beds, trying to force themself to sleep. Out of those few who did manage to shove the howling of the winds and pattering of the rain on the walls of Redwall out of their minds and will themselves to sleep, all but a few were tormented by uneasy dreams. Many of the adults had given up on getting to sleep, and were gathered down in Cavern Hole, sipping at whatever beverages they could get their paws on.  
  
Redwall's Champion, Gormin, paced restlessly, holding a cup filled with October ale in his paw. Around him, Abbey dwellers sat around Cavern Hole's two tables or stood in clusters, talking to each other quietly. The wind outside drowned out their voices to those who were not sitting close to them. Something about the storm taking place outside hushed the voices of the normally cheerful Redwallers. This storm is a fearsome thing, thought the squirrel to himself as he walked back and forth, letting his bushy tail sweep out behind him. The Champion of Redwall was considered by many to be fearless and ferocious, and aside from himself and his close friend Jacob, nobeast knew the inner thoughts and feelings of the squirrel considered by many to be a badger in a squirrel's body.  
  
Everybeast gave Gormin a wide berth as he paced back and forth, though he was doing nothing to make himself seem intimidating. He supposed that the image of a warrior that fought against the Stormrats moving about Cavern Hole restlessly and scowling at nothing would put fear, or at least wariness, into the hearts of most beasts. Had he been in the mood, Gormin would have laughed at the way the other beasts in Cavern Hole kept clear of him.  
  
Eventually, Gormin became aware of the discomfort his pacing was causing to most of the adults gathered in the room. He heaved a sigh and sat down next to Cain, a mouse who didn't seem to be particularly disturbed by his reputation as a fierce warrior. "Hello, Gormin," said Cain, looking up from the table. "The storm disturbed your rest, too?"  
  
While Gormin and Cain had never been close, they had fought together in the Stormrat War, and that gave them a kind of kinship that no nonwarrior would understand. In fact, Gormin considered Cain to be more in touch with the forces of war than himself - while Gormin had seen many beasts die on the field of battle, Cain had lost a wife to the Stormrats. It was a wound that would never go away, and Gormin felt a deep pity for the mouse.  
  
"Yes... I don't believe anybeast in Mossflower will sleep peacefully tonight. Even within this Abbey, the wind and rain are strong enough to keep us awake. Think of what it must be like elsewhere." A flash of worry passed over Cain's eyes, and Gormin realized that he had said the wrong thing. "Your son is out there, isn't he?" Cain nodded. Gormin reached out a paw and placed it on Gormin's shoulder. "He'll be alright. The mouse is tough for his age, and a little bit of bad weather will do him good; give him some experience in what it would be like during a war." Cain nodded his thanks, but it was obvious that Gormin's words did little to nothing to help abate Cain's worries.  
  
A couple minutes of silence followed Gormin and Can's conversation. When Gormin noticed Colin, a squirrel who had fought alongside Cain and himself in the Stormrat War, come down into Cavern Hole, he quietly stood and left the table. Cain would likely want some reassurance about his son Andrew from a close friend's lips, and Gormin feared that it would be considered rude to stay and listen to the conversation. He had few enough friends in the Abbey as it was, and he did not want to offend one of the few beasts who didn't mind his company.  
  
By the time Colin had taken a seat next to Cain, Gormin had walked to the other end of Cavern Hole and now stood sipping at his October ale. The squirrel resisted the urge to resume his pacing, and instead stood with his back to the wall, sweeping his gaze back and forth across the room.  
  
As Gormin drained his glass, his thoughts turned to his friend Jacob. He would be out in the gatehouse, almost certainly awake. Jacob had been a poor sleeper since he was a dibbun, and was kept awake by storms and other distractions even now, many seasons later. Jacob would confine himself to the gatehouse this stormy night. There was no way for him to know that much of the Abbey population was gathered in Cavern Hole, and even if he did, he might prefer the company of the Abbey histories to risking the heavy rain and rough winds to come out from the gatehouse. But instead of wasting his time trying to get to sleep, the Abbey recorder would be reading through Redwall's histories, or undertaking the task of organizing the text held within the gatehouse.  
  
There's nobody here for me to talk to, thought Gormin. Jacob was the only beast who was willing to befriend him, and that was because they had been close when they were young, before Gormin became a fierce warrior. Jacob had apprenticed under the mouse who had been the Abbey recorder when they were young, and was schooled in the Abbey histories and keeping his own records at the same time Gormin had been learning how to fight with sword, spear, and bow and arrows.  
  
Gormin had taken the place of Rina, the previous Abbey Champion, the same season that Jacob had risen to the position of Redwall's recorder. The responsibilities of the Abbey's Champion before the Stormrat War had consisted of defending Abbeybeasts and innocent woodlanders from the more unsavory beasts that roamed the woodlands, keeping in touch with Lord Sunforge and his Long Patrol, and training Abbey dwellers who wished to become warriors. Redwall's Skipper of otters had helped Gormin with the training when he first began, but it still took the squirrel seasons to grow into the art of teaching younger beasts how to fight. Rina, though she was old and her fur turned grey, had helped him teach the younger beasts until her seasons got the better of her and she died in her sleep.  
  
When the Stormrat War began, the duties of Redwall's Champion changed drastically. Lord Sunforge himself had journeyed to Redwall and requested assistance from Abbess Elm. At first, she was reluctant to risk Abbeybeasts in a war that she felt Salamandastron's Long Patrol could win itself, but as the army of the Stormrats gradually began to beat back the Long Patrol and make its way north along the coast and east into Mossflower, desperation got the better of Elm's peaceful ways. Redwall's defenders were sent to assist the Long Patrol, from Gormin to Skipper to a young Colin. Only Cain and Kelly refused to hurry to the front lines. Instead, they set off into Mossflower Wood, leaving their son Andrew behind.  
  
The Long Patrol had suffered heavy losses against the Stormrat army by the time Redwall's warriors arrived to help. But though the warriors at Redwall were well trained by the Abbey defenders in the art of war, they could do little against the disciplined army of the Stormrats. Slowly but surely, the armies of Salamandastron and Redwall were pushed north, toward Salamandastron. There, Lord Sunforge claimed, they would drive off the Stormrats or die trying.  
  
And for awhile, it did seem as if the goodbeasts would die trying. The Stormrats were unusually skilled at keeping their army disciplined, and the beasts themselves were awesome to behold. The Stormrats were a dominant family of searat, and they grew to almost twice the size of a normal searat. Stormrats were almost as fierce as badgers, and they had all the cunning of a vermin warlord. Their numbers were small, but the presence of the Stormrats gave their army confidence, and brought despair to the hearts of the goodbeasts that opposed them.  
  
At Salamandastron, the armies of the goodbeasts managed to hold off the Stormrats for many days. It seemed that they would have a chance to retaliate when Lord Sunforge came up with plans to direct guerilla attacks against the vermin army, sending attackers by night to harass them and retreating to the safety of Salamandastron when their presence was noted. He hoped that these tactics would cause the Stormrats to retreat to more neutral territory along the coastline. But Lord Sunforge died leading the first guerilla attack, and though the vermin were caught by surprise and many of them were slain, many of the goodbeasts also lost their lives.  
  
The loss of Lord Sunforge was a demoralizing blow, but the goodbeasts did not give up. Gormin himself took over the overall leadership of the beasts stationed at Salamandastron, and a hare by the name of Lanter took over the Long Patrol after Sunforge died. Using guerilla tactics, Gormin drove off the Stormrats from Salamandastron. But instead of turning back south, the army plunged into Mossflower.  
  
Naturally, the goodbeasts pursued, unwilling to watch the Stormrats invade their home. But when they caught up with the vermin army, they found a force of Guosim shrews already fighting them. Cain and Kelly accompanied the shrews, along with an assortment of woodlanders. The intervention of the Guosim had turned the tide of battle, but there were still more tragedies to be experienced...  
  
A particularly loud gust of wind brought Gormin out of his reminisces. He had no idea how much time had passed, but he noticed that even more Redwallers had come down into Cavern Hole. It's getting a bit too crowded in here for my tastes, thought Gormin. He made his way toward the entrance to Great Hall, casting one last glance at his fellow Redwallers who were gathered in Cavern Hole.  
  
Gormin walked toward the stairs leading up to Redwall's dormitories, but stopped as the tapestry of Martin the Warrior caught his eye. He walked over it and touched it gently. "We never did find your sword," the squirrel whispered, gazing at the warrior mouse depicted in the tapestry. "Maybe that's why we fared so poorly in the Stormrat War."  
  
The mouse warrior's eyes seemed to gaze at Gormin, and for a moment, it seemed to the squirrel as if Martin the Warrior was gazing across time, judging the current Champion of the Abbey he had founded. It made Gormin feel inferior, but at the same time, kindled some kind of fierce pride within him. With or without the sword of Martin, he was the Champion of Redwall Abbey.  
  
The moment passed, and Gormin shook his head. It felt foggy, and no matter how hard he tried to clear his mind, the fogginess would not leave. Sighing, Gormin turned away from the tapestry and climbed the stairs to the dormitories.  
  
Many Redwallers in seasons past had claimed to have "spoken" with Martin the Warrior through dreams, or felt the subtle touch of his paw on their daily lives. But if the warriormouse intervened in the lives of Abbeybeast in the present day, none of the Abbeybeasts had shared their experiences with their fellows.  
  
But before he left for the Stormrat War, Gormin had visited the tapestry to ask the spirit of Martin the Warrior for luck. He had experienced a dizzy feeling, and when the feeling dissipated, he felt somehow more confident and prepared for war. He also suspected that Cain and Kelly had received some sort of guidance from the mouse. He had seen the two of them together in front of the tapestry the day before Redwall's defenders had departed. Gormin believed that it was Martin's guidance that caused Cain and Kelly to rally the Guosim and other woodlanders five seasons ago.  
  
When Gormin opened the door to his dormitory, he had every intention of laying down in his bed and making at least a half-hearted attempt to get to sleep. But instead, he found himself donning his cloak and walking back down to Great Hall.  
  
The squirrel warrior passed some other Redwallers in the halls, but he didn't stop to greet them. He wasn't even sure where he was going. He felt as if he were being guided, and when he turned his thoughts toward this, a small smile spread across his face. Once again, Martin, you nudge me toward something. I just wonder what.  
  
Gormin swept through Great Hall, and made his way toward the door leading outside to where the rain and wind raged. He reached one paw up to draw his cloak around himself to protect him from the cold, though he was not sure if it was his own will or Martin's guidance that caused him to take the action. I think I did it, though Gormin, feeling his legs move without his direction and moving outside. I remember telling myself to.  
  
The rain and wind beat fiercely at Gormin as he exited the main Abbey building, but he didn't so much as pause. His legs carried him against the wind, against the rain, and toward the main gate. The squirrel consciously willed himself to ignore the discomfort the weather was causing his body, and let his legs carry him to his destination.  
  
Once he reached the main gate of Redwall, he felt as if he were being slowly released from some sort of foreign influence. Goodbye, Martin, though Gormin wistfully as he felt himself regain full control of his body and will. Once he could act for himself again, Gormin turned his thoughts toward why exactly he was standing in front of the gate.  
  
It didn't take him long to grasp one possible answer. Over the noise that the wind and rain caused, Gormin could hear something pounding on the Abbey gates. They had been locked before everybody turned in for the night, and in the event that some woodlander was left out in the storm, there would be no way for them to enter the Abbey. But it could also be a vermin...  
  
On impulse, Gormin slid open the bolt that held the gates shut and slowly opened the heavy wooden doors. After he had managed to open a crack between the double doors large enough to permit a badger to enter, he stepped outside of the Abbey walls and looked around. After only a few moments, he sighted the beast that had been waiting at the doors. A female hare that Gormin presumed was a member of the Long Patrol stood outside of Redwall's gates. Drops of water dripped down from her long ears, and her fur was soaked through.  
  
"Sure took you long enough to open the flippin' gate, didn't it?" said the hare huffily. Then she shook her head, sending droplets of water flying from her ears. "Well, I suppose I can't complain. This storm's a fierce one, and I can't expect you to hear me poundin' on the door, wot?" Gormin opened his mouth to respond, but before he could get anything out, the hare continued speaking. "Well, now that you've opened the darned thing, I don't suppose you could take me inside? I'm Candice, a runner from Lord Rocketh's Long Patrol. I got an urgent message for the Abbess o' Redwall. From Lord Rocketh himself, y'know."  
  
"I'll take you to her," said Gormin wearily. "But could you help me shut the gates, first?"  
  
"O' course I can!" exclaimed the hare, lending Gormin her assistance in shutting the gate. "As a hare of the Long Patrol, I do a whole lot more than openin' and closin' gates. I'm one of Lord Rocketh's fastest runners. That's why he chose me to deliver this message. It's urgent, and the Abbess must be notified as soon as it's convenient."  
  
"Then come inside," said Gormin. "Almost everybeast in the Abbey is awake because of the storm, and the Abbess is down in Cavern Hole. I'll take you to her right away." The squirrel warrior slid the bolt back into place to lock the main gate of Redwall, and turned to lead the hare to the main building. Just like an outsider to ask for admittance by the main gate rather than the wallgates, he thought. Grandeur isn't everything.  
  
"By the way, I don't suppose that you have any food that you could spare? The long run tired me out, and I'm jolly well famished. A towel would be nice, too, but if you don't have any you could spare, that's fine by me."  
  
Gormin almost chuckled. Just like a hare to but food ahead of comfort. "I can get you both food and a towel. Wait in Great Hall while I get you a towel from one of the dormitories. You can eat while you deliver your message to the Abbess."  
  
The hare nodded, and Gormin led the unexpected guest into Great Hall. At the moment, he didn't give much thought to what message she might have been sent to deliver, but by dinner tomorrow, it would be the subject for gossip among every Redwaller. 


	2. Chapter Two

Luc awoke in his dormitory the next morning with no recollection of how he had come to be there. The last thing he remembered about the previous night took place after Abbess Elm had declared that she would be receiving a message from Salamandastron in Cavern Hole. Luc and some other Redwallers who wanted to be left to their own devices rather than listen to what they assumed was a boring message from Lord Rocketh went up to Great Hall. Luc had been asking his friend Ellen what she thought the message from Lord Rocketh was about when he felt weariness overcome him. The wind and rain had kept him up this far into the night, but he found that he couldn't fight it any longer.  
  
The squirrel pulled himself out of his bed and stretched. Outside his window, the sun shone brightly in the sky, just as it had yesterday before the storm began. But at least the storm had stopped, probably the night before or early in the morning. Judging from the position of the sun, it was almost the time that most of Redwall gathered in Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
Luc slipped on some clothing and made his way down to Great Hall. Once he got there, he walked over to where his friend Ellen was sitting. "I see that you're up nice and late in the morning," said Ellen. She was grinning from ear to ear, and whenever she got that expression on her face, she found some way or another to tease Luc. "Most of Redwall was under the impression that you'd sleep until dinnertime. Nobody could rouse you from your sleep, so Skipper had to carry you to your dormitory." Ellen lowered her voice and leaned closer to Luc, who was already blushing underneath his fur. "Personally, I thought you looked cute, being carried by that big otter. Just like a little dibbun. But I'm sure the rest of the Abbey isn't thinking about the cuteness of it. They're probably all laughing behind your back."  
  
"You're kidding!" said Luc, his voice a high-pitched squeak. He was already blushing, but he could feel his entire body grow hotter. "You mean the entire Abbey saw Skipper carry me to my dormitory?"  
  
Ellen laughed out loud, and gave her friend a playful shove on the shoulder. "I was just kidding. Only Skipper, Laura, Skhan, myself, and now you know. None of the others would tell, but I just might be tempted to start a few whispers about it. And everybody who knows, while they might not want to gossip about it, are honest. If they're asked whether it actually happened, they'll tell the truth."  
  
"You're not serious, are you?" asked Luc, a pleading note to his voice. "Come on, Ellen. You might think it was cute, but I don't think anybody else would. It would take me a season to live down the embarrassment, and that's just from what the older beasts would remember. Can you imagine what the dibbuns would say?"  
  
"I won't tell, if you do some things for me," Ellen said. If Luc didn't know Ellen as well as he did, he would've lashed out at her at that moment. But she had done things like this before, blackmailing him and his friend Andrew in order to get their help with tasks that fell to Ellen as an apprentice infirmary keeper, or her normal chores. Andrew had usually been here to help him help Ellen, but he had set off yesterday before the storm had started. Luc was pretty sure that Andrew would be alright, but he still worried about the mouse.  
  
"Alright, Ellen," Luc said. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
"I'd like some protection going into Mossflower Wood today to pick some herbs," said Ellen, smiling sweetly at Luc. "I'd ask somebody else, but they all seem preoccupied with the news that hare from Salamandastron brought. If Andrew was here, I'd try to get help from both of you, but you're the only one that wouldn't be too busy to escort me. Would you? Please?"  
  
Luc was surprised. Even though Ellen was being trained to take over the infirmary when Sister Rain, the current infirmary keeper, stepped down, she had been trained in the use of basic weaponry just as most of the other Abbeybeasts around their age had been. In fact, before a position as infirmary keeper had caught her eye, Ellen had dreamed of becoming a warrior as great as Martin had been. That kind of ambition didn't die easily, especially with somebody as stubborn as Ellen. He doubted that she would ask him for help unless there was a good reason to.  
  
"You didn't have to blackmail me," he said, putting some hurt into his voice. "All you had to do was ask for my help. I wouldn't dare let a delicate squirrelmaid such as yourself roam Mossflower Woods on her own."  
  
His statement had the effect he had thought it would. Ellen's eyes narrowed, and she reached out a paw to grab Luc's arm. "I am not a delicate squirrelmaid," she said, her voice fierce. "Spar with me later. I'll prove it to you!" Her other paw moved up to the back of Luc's head, and dragged his head down so her nose was almost touching his. "Can you honestly say that you would win? I might only train occasionally, but I'm still almost as good as you. Even Andrew has said that I can fight well."  
  
"I know that," answered Luc. The image of Ellen physically threatening Luc drew a few glances from the Redwallers that were beginning to file into Great Hall, but it was really nothing out of the ordinary. Ellen had been known to get into fights from anyone in the Abbey, from the dibbuns to beasts closer to her age. She had even tried to pick a fight with an otter by the name of Kiran after he had jokingly dropped a pawful of hotroot in her strawberry cordial last Nameday. Not only did the mixture taste horrible, her mouth had burned for almost the entire rest of the Nameday feast. In return, she had poured another glass of strawberry cordial over his head. To this day, both Kiran and Ellen were wary of each other.  
  
"Good," said Ellen, and released her hold on Luc. The squirrel pulled back and rubbed his arm when Ellen had grabbed it. "Normally, I wouldn't need your help. I'm not a delicate little squirrelmaid. But I think that Kiran and some of his otter friends will be waiting out in the woods to ambush me. I saw them heading off toward Mossflower this morning, and I think they'll be watching me when I head for the woods. I usually pick herbs in one spot, and I'd rather not change to risk running into vermin. I don't think the otters would hurt me, but I'd rather avoid any sort of embarrassment. So I'd like to have you along to help me out. Will you come?"  
  
Luc nodded. "I'll come along with you. When do we leave?"  
  
"Right after we eat," answered Ellen.  
  
After breakfast was placed on the table, the two squirrels broke off their conversation and turned their attention to the food. Like most Abbey meals, this breakfast had a fine assortment of food placed out on the table. But instead of stuffing themselves, as the two squirrels would normally have been tempted to do, they limited themselves to just enough food to fill their stomachs. After they had eaten, Luc and Ellen stood and walked up to their dormitories.  
  
"Why are we going up here?" asked Ellen. "We could pick up some staffs to defend ourselves from Gormin, and we probably won't need anything else."  
  
"I'm going to get my traveling cloak," answered Luc. "Go talk to Gormin to see if you can get staffs. I'll be down at the gate. Meet me there with or without the staffs."  
  
"But if I come without the staffs, how will we defend ourselves?" asked Ellen.  
  
Luc shook his head. "I don't know. But we have to find some way to get you herb picking. Like you said, none of the adults would be willing to escort you because of that Long Patrol hare. If they did, I doubt that Kiran and his friends would even think of ambushing you. We might run into vermin, but... what could they do to you that is worse that what Sister Rain would do if you didn't manage to find the herbs?" Ellen chuckled and turned around, heading off to find Gormin.  
  
When Luc reached his dormitory, he walked over to his bed and ducked underneath it. The squirrel pried up a loose floorboard that nobody had bothered to repair and took out a small cloth bundle. He let the floorboard move back into place and unwrapped the bundle.  
  
Inside the cloth was a small, sharp dagger. Andrew had given it to Luc so he could defend himself if he ever had the need. At the time, Luc had laughed and said that he never would need to be able to defend himself, but Andrew had insisted that Luc take the dagger and hide it somewhere that no older Redwaller would be likely to look, but in a place that Luc could easily remember and have easy access to. In the end, Luc had agreed to hide it under the loose floorboard under his bed. Just as he and Andrew had hoped, nobeast had found it.  
  
It wouldn't do to tell Ellen of this weapon, thought Luc, examining his dagger closely. She'll either forbid me to take it along or suggest using it against the otters. No matter how good a friend she is, I can't say much for her self control. Luc stayed crouched on the floor for a few moments, and then stood and walked over to get his cloak. He put it on, and paused a moment to consider where he should keep the dagger. Nowhere that Ellen could see it, he thought.  
  
In the end, Luc elected to hide the dagger inside his boot. Though it was uncomfortable, it would be hidden unless he needed it and there was almost no chance that he would manage to injure himself.  
  
Luc climbed downstairs and went to wait at the Abbey gate. After a few minutes, Ellen came to meet him. She had the staffs that Luc had wanted, along with a cloth bundle that Luc suspected had food inside it.  
  
"Let's go," Luc said when Ellen had given him his staff. The squirrelmaid nodded, and Luc and her walked out of one of the wallgates, heading toward Mossflower Wood.  
  
~~~  
  
"Martin help us," muttered Colin, Luc's father. Most of the beasts that had stayed in Cavern Hole after the Abbess had asked the night before for them to hold a meeting to listen to Candice's message had departed to get some sleep, but a few still remained. Among them were Abbess Elm, Skipper, Cain, and himself. Gormin had been present up until a few minutes ago, when Ellen had asked for his attention. Foremole had also left at that time, claiming that he needed to catch up on a night's worth of missed sleep. Jacob had also joined the gathering, and had made an offer to keep a record of what was being said that the remaining beasts gladly accepted.  
  
Candice had left for a guest dormitory after the storm had halted. She had run to Redwall from Salamandastron over the course of a few days, and that sort of journey left even a Long Patrol hare tired. Normally, Colin would have gladly let the hare depart, but the message she had delivered was so dire that it had taken all his self restraint not to ask Candice to stay so the Abbeybeasts would be able to interrogate her.  
  
"I don't believe it," muttered Cain, clutching at the table with his paws. But instead of confident, his voice sounded almost pleading. "Log-a-log, Gormin and I led our troops in pursuit of the vermin back to the Stormrat navy to make sure just this sort of thing didn't happen. And between the three of us, as well as the rest of the woodlanders that rose to pursue the vermin, a Stormrat wouldn't escape our notice."  
  
"But according to Lord Rocketh, it did," said Abbess Elm, her voice strangely calm. "And I doubt he would've sent a runner with such urgency if he believed the situation with only half his heart. And it's possible that Mordrin would've sent another one of the Stormrats back to prepare the crews of his ships to flee just in case some disaster struck his army. As it did. So we must be prepared to fight a Stormrat once again."  
  
"Lord Rocketh offered us no proof that it was a Stormrat who led the force that ambushed his hares! They could have been mistaken. Their leader could have just been an oversized searat. I can't believe that we let a Stormrat escape from us!" said Cain, sounding desparate. "We didn't let so many woodlanders die in the last war just to lose what we won when the Stormrats come for us again!"  
  
"You can't believe it, or don't want to believe it?" asked Skipper, who had been silent for the past half hour. Colin thought he had seen the otter's eyes close for some time, but if he had been sleeping, he wasn't showing it now. "My father raised me to accept the truth unless I have some reason not to. That advice served him well when he was Skipper, and it has worked so far for me. And the truth, as I see it, is that Lord Rocketh believes that a Stormrat is leading a vermin army north. The truth, as Lord Rocketh sees it, is that Salamandastron, all of Mossflower, and eventually Redwall will be in grave danger unless this menace is stopped."  
  
Skipper gave Cain time to absorb his words before continuing. "And I do believe that we can stop it. While it is true that the Stormrat War killed many of our best warriors, much of the vermin army was destroyed as well. I admit that if a Stormrat survived, he or she could raise a strong army and give it the hope of capturing Salamandastron and sweeping across Mossflower. Doubtless Salamandastron would be their first priority, since it is a point that the Stormrats would be able to control the coastline. Then, they would pass over the small dwellings throughout Mossflower Wood and sweep down on a place of power. Here. Redwall."  
  
"Redwall? A place of power?" said Colin incredulously. "We've only used the Abbey to benefit woodlanders! Redwall is a place that benefits Mossflower, not a place that has power over it."  
  
"You forget your histories, Colin," said Jacob, lifting his head from the notes he had been taking. "Before Redwall was built, Lord Verdauga's fortress Kotir stood in its place. If a wildcat was able to rule over Mossflower from a fortress that once stood where this Abbey does now, why couldn't a searat rule Mossflower from Redwall? Especially a Stormrat..."  
  
"Then we must not lose," said Gormin's voice. Colin and the other beasts sitting around one of Cavern Hole's two tables turned their heads toward the stairs. The squirrel Champion returned to Cavern Hole and took a seat next to Jacob. "I do not believe that Redwall and the residents of Mossflower would be able to resist the vermin army without the help of the Long Patrol. Though our Abbey has a standing tradition of training fierce warriors, Lord Rocketh, and Lord Sunforge before him, gave the Long Patrol a sense of discipline that I do not believe our Abbey's defenders can match. We must keep the Stormrats from taking Salamandastron."  
  
"I agree," said Cain. He seemed to have regained control of himself, but Colin had known Cain for seasons, and he could see that the mouse was still worried. Whether his thoughts were of the army of vermin said to be bearing down on Salamandastron or of his son, Colin couldn't tell. "But won't that be a problem? Many of our warriors were slain in the Stormrat War, and Salamandastron came out with half as many defenders as it started the war with. I don't know about the state of the Guosim, though. They didn't take as much casualties as Salamandastron or Redwall, so they might give us an edge in this fight."  
  
"If we can find them," answered Colin. "You and Kelly had to go through hell to find the Guosim and rally the woodlanders. Do you know where the Guosim is now, Cain?"  
  
"No," he answered, "but if you gave me time, I could find them. And there's always the chance that Log-a-log will come to help us fight once he hears that the Stormrats are back."  
  
"So you've finally stopped denying the truth, Cain?" asked Skipper.  
  
The mouse nodded. "Yes... but I don't want to lose anyone else. My son Andrew has grown into a fine mouse, and I can't bear losing what Kelly and I fought so hard for in the Stormrat War. We must win. Do you all understand that? We must."  
  
"I have a son as well," said Colin, "as do most other Abbeybeasts. Believe me, I understand your concerns fully. We have all lost a loved one at one point or another, and though I doubt any of us were as close as you and Kelly, we know how you feel. We know your urgency. Given the chance, every warrior within Redwall will fight the vermin off or die trying."  
  
Cain nodded. "I understand. The danger of the Stormrats... is real. But what do we do about Lord Rocketh's request? The badger wants an army. Can we give him one?"  
  
"I don't know," said Abbess Elm. "Candice says that Lord Rocketh has given us until noon tomorrow to debate whether or not we will help him. We will spend that time debating. All the Redwallers will be invited to discuss our decision, and we will go with the majority. I would, however, like to hear your opinions about this fight ahead of time."  
  
"I think that helping Lord Rocketh is absolutely nessecary," said Colin. "However, there will doubtlessly be Redwallers who feel differently than I do, and I will abide by the decision of the majority."  
  
Skipper answered next. "As I said, I prefer to accept the truth as it appears. And to me, it appears to me that there is at least one Stormrat still alive. I do not think that Lord Rocketh and his Long Patrol can win this war on their own, and I believe that all of Redwall must go to help them. Somebeasts may not agree with me, but I am certain that at least half of my otters will. Regardless of the decision made by the rest of the Abbey, I am leaving at noon tomorrow, with the hare. I can only hope that the rest of the Abbey will come to a similar decision."  
  
"I would like to debate a point that you brought up, Skipper," said Jacob. He still scribbled on a piece of parchment with his quill pen, and ink dripped onto his paws. "While the Long Patrol and ourselves lost a considerable amout of warriors in the war, we have no way of knowing how many beasts this Stormrat has gathered into his horde, nor how well-trained they may be. It took a clan of Stormrats to discipling the horde that was brought against us during the war, and while a single Stormrat may be intimidating on his own, I doubt that he can command as much respect from an army as a group of them would." Jacob paused for a moment, seeming to consider. "But then... it is often best to assume the worst during times of war."  
  
"You raise a strong point, Jacob," said Skipper. "But my analysis of the situation remains the same. I believe that Redwall must help fight the Stormrats. Wrong or right... it is my belief."  
  
Abbess Elm nodded. "I understand. Lord Rocketh can be assured of your help. And what about you, Cain, and you, Gormin? What decision do you think we should make?"  
  
Cain was quick to answer. "I'm with Skipper. Lord Rocketh has my assistance no matter what the other Redwallers think. I know war, and it is horrible. But either we fight, or we let the vermin sweep across Mossflower. And there are too many goodbeasts - and vermin, I suppose - who would suffer because of the Stormrats. I will lay down my life if it will protect protect those beasts. My son is among those beasts, and I will not see him suffer if I can do anything to stop it."  
  
"And you, Gormin?" asked Abbess Elm, gazing at the squirrel. "You have heard the arguments of every other beast. But in the end, it comes to you, as the Abbey's Champion, to decide whether or not Redwall can give its full support to Lord Rocketh. What would you advise?"  
  
"First of all, Abbess, I would argue that it is your decision whether or not Redwall goes to war. But since you wish to hear my opinion, I will give it." Gormin cleared his throat. It was clear to Colin that he had thought out his decision, and he waited anxiously to hear it.  
  
"Normally, I would recommend caution. Under different circumstances, I would say to wait and see how things play out before we decide either way. But I believe that it is Martin's wish that Redwall goes to war. So I will lead the defenders of Redwall to Lord Rocketh's side, if they wish to be led there."  
  
"Thank you, Gormin," said the Abbess, rising to her footpaws. "I will ask the other Redwallers what they think we should do at lunch today. But please do not mention any of the conversation we had in here to any of them. I think that they need to decide on a course of action on their own, without the influence of any of us."  
  
The beasts in Cavern Hole nodded, and the meeting was over. 


	3. Chapter Three

Lord Rocketh of Salamandastron stood in the armory of his mountain fortress. In his paws he grasped a magnificent blade, a sword that even a badger had to hold double-pawed. Its edge was sharper than most swords, and aside from the weapons held in Salamandastron's armory, he doubted he could find a better blade. Weapons that had been forged by Badger Lords had a certain quality to them that any common weapon could not hope to possess. This blade was one of them, and to Lord Rocketh's mind and heart, it fit into his paws almost as if it had been made for him. A pity, then, that it hadn't been made by him.  
  
Unlike most of the Badger Lords that had ruled Salamandastron before him, Lord Rocketh was a mediocre weaponsmith at best. Try as he might, he could not produce a single weapon that lived up to those of the badgers that had worked in Salamandastron's forge generations before him. The weapons that he could forge were just not good enough in his eyes, and the Long Patrol was currently using weapons and armor that had been kept in the storerooms for generations. Even Lord Rocketh used a weapon that wasn't his, by right, although the weapon's maker had forged it specifically for him.  
  
"Lord Sunforge," Rocketh muttered, looking at the magnificent blade that his direct predecessor had forged for him in the days before the Stormrat War. "Why did you make this blade for me, of all beasts? I don't deserve it... I didn't even forge it myself. And now, with the Stormrats back, I'm going to need a weapon. But I should have my own weapon, made with my own paws, not something you labored to create."  
  
The Badger Lord held the sword out in front of him, gripping it tightly with his immense paws. He gave it a few practice swings, and was surprised at how well he was able to swing it. It moved as if it were an extension of his arm, and if Rocketh really strained his mind, he could imagine feeling the sword, from the tip of its blade to the pommel. I don't deserve this blade, he though as he swung it out in front of him. He marveled at how smoothly it cut through the air, and how easy it fit his grip. This is not my blade, though Lord Rocketh, even as he realized how perfectly it fit him.  
  
"Um, sire," came a voice from behind Rocketh. Recognizing the voice of Colonel Jeffrey, one of his most trusted hares, Lord Rocketh lowered the sword he had been holding slowly, and with a touch of regret. After carefully leaning it against a suit of armor, he turned to face the colonel.  
  
"Yes, Jeffrey? Is there something you need?" asked the Badger Lord.  
  
"There is, sah," said the colonel, nodding his head and letting his long ears bob about. "Merlin has returned from his journey. He reports that the Stormrat navy has dropped anchor in the same position they did five seasons ago. He caught a glimpse of the horde that the army brought across the sea, and says that although their numbers are less than the horde that we fought in the Stormrat War, it is larger than the Long Patrol. We better hope we get help from the Redwallers, wot?"  
  
"Yes. I don't expect them to refuse my request, but if they do, we must be prepared to fight to the last even without their help. If the Stormrats were to win this time around, there's no telling what they'll do. Not only did the Long Patrol and the woodlanders fight them back, you also followed them to their navy and tried to kill of every one of their kind. This last Stormrat won't only have dreams of conquest. He will want to avenge his family. Perhaps he is even more desperate than we are." Lord Rocketh bared his teeth. "Desperation, I think, is what bought you a victory the last time. Our enemy's drive for vengeance may be our undoing."  
  
"With respect, sire, those vermin aren't the only ones who want to avenge lost friends and loved 'uns. In the first battle of the Stormrat War, I lost one o' my sons to those abominations. And when they placed Salamandastron under siege, I went with Lord Sunforge to lead a hit and run attack on their camp. I saw one of those monstrous rats impale him on a spear with my own eyes! And there was nothin', nothin' at all that I could do other than retreat. Mark my words, there are Long Patrol hares and goodbeasts throughout Mossflower who would be itching for a taste of vengeance."  
  
"I know that," said the Badger Lord. "I feel the loss of Lord Sunforge myself, though I have never met him face to face. But I think it was him who gave me the urge to leave my home in the north and come down to Salamandastron. I think his spirit chose me to be his successor and guided me to the mountain. But he isn't with me anymore, I'm afraid. And just when we could have used his experience most..."  
  
"You may not have lived here for much longer than four seasons, sire, but you are still the Badger Lord of Salamandastron. Badgers are some of th' most fierce warriors alive, and even though you didn't fight against the Stormrats, I'm confident that you can live up to Lord Sunforge." Colonel Jeffrey gestured toward the doorway of the armory. "Merlin is waitin' just outside. Do you want to talk to him yourself?"  
  
Rocketh nodded. "I will. Thank you colonel." The hare turned around and walked out of the armory, and walked off through the tunnels of Salamandastron. The badger followed Jeffrey out of the armory, but instead of following him along Salamandastron's tunnels, he turned toward a hare who was waiting by the door.  
  
"Merlin, is it?" said Lord Rocketh as he looked at the hare. Unlike Colonel Jeffrey, Merlin was a young hare, and his blue eyes shined with youthful excitement. It seemed that not even his sight of the vermin army had diminished his enthusiasm and willingness to serve his Lord. "Colonel Joffrey tells me that you've returned from your mission to scope out the Stormrat camp. He told me what you saw, but I'd rather hear it from your own tongue. Speak."  
  
Unlike many hares of his age and experience, Merlin spoke confidently and smoothly. "Well, sire, I proceeded south down the coast as you instructed me to. After two days' worth of runnin', I came across the ships. I saw 'em from a distance, o' course, and I don't believe I was spotted. Though I couldn't pick out individuals from my position, I judge that there are about four hundred vermin campin' south of 'ere. I'm estimatin' that they could be here in three an' a half days, at a standard pace. O' course, after Sergeant Polwyn and some o' his hares managed to escape their ambush, I don't think that the vermin will waste any time. They know we know they're comin', and it would take some bally nerve to wait there on the beach an' see how many hares we can send against 'em."  
  
"We don't have enough hares to send any sort of assault against them. If we could spare the numbers, believe me, I'd send a group of Long Patrol hares to harass the horde as they move north. But with only two hundred hares to defend this mountain, I dare not send away any defenders from the battle that will come."  
  
"I don't mean to doubt you, sire, but won't inactivity just make the vermin leader more confident? If you were to send twoscore fighting hares to harass the horde as it marched, they would most likely think that we could spare the troops. It would make them more cautious with any assault on our stronghold, and it would probably stall their assault long enough to for some sort of assistance to arrive." Merlin's ears drooped as a discouraging thought occurred to him. "We're not gonna be alone in this war, are we, sire? And how d'you know that the vermin horde will move north from their landin' spot? What's stoppin' them from heading east, instead o' charging directly toward our position of power?"  
  
"Nothing is stopping them from marching east," answered Rocketh. "However, as you said, the vermin know that we know of their presence. I'm assuming that they'll march directly for Salamandastron, instead of making us track them down. After all, if we did go after them, they would have no way of knowing when or where we would choose to engage them. Better to know where the fight will be than to have it occur in some random location in Mossflower." The Badger Lord paused. "However, you were right about sending a group of hares to harass the vermin. Twoscore sounds like a good number to me. You will accompany the group as a runner, and report directly to Salamandastron if the vermin divert at all from the course I predict they'll take. Inform Sergeant Polwyn that I would like to meet him here at the armory."  
  
Merlin nodded his understanding. "But, sire... we won't be fighting alone, will we? In the last war, Redwall, the Guosim, an' the woodlanders of Mossflower helped us t' drive back the Stormrats. Will they be with us this time?"  
  
At that moment, Lord Rocketh was overcome by an urge to lie to the young patroller, and assure him that all the might of Redwall, the Guosim, and Mossflower County would be behind them when they fought the Stormrats. But Merlin was not a leveret, and Rocketh knew that he had the right to know the truth. "I sent Candice to deliver my plea for help to Redwall's Abbess. I believe that they will choose to assist us, but there's always the chance that the Redwallers have grown weary of war and will choose not to help us. As for the Guosim, I do not know where they are and cannot spare the hares I would need to track them down. And there are too much small dwellings through Mossflower Country to deliver a message to every one of them. I'm afraid that the only help we'll have is from Redwall Abbey, and that's if they decide to go to war."  
  
"I understand, sire," said Merlin. "But y'know... if the Redwallers decide not t' help us, then there's no way short of a miracle that we'll manage to win this war. And even with the might of Redwall fightin' at our side, we still might not be able to win. Seems like a hopeless situation, wot?"  
  
"No," answered Lord Rocketh. "Not hopeless. It may seem difficult, but there is a way to win. But nothing is certain." After a few moments of brooding silence, the Badger Lord waved his paw. "Go get Sergeant Polwyn. Tell him to take his time."  
  
Merlin turned and dashed away, leaving only a murmur of understanding for his Lord. Rocketh turned and stepped back inside the armory. After a few moments of indecision, the badger picked up the sword that Lord Sunforge had made for him, and gazed at it with hard eyes. Just as he had before, he gave the sword a few practice swings. It would be easy to wear this on my back, thought Rocketh. Without quite knowing why, Lord Rocketh abandoned his pride and accepted the fine sword that Lord Sunforge had made him as his own.  
  
~~~  
  
Luc and Ellen made their way through Mossflower Wood, keeping their senses alert for any sight, sound, or smell that would indicate the presence of Kiran or his otter friends. So far, they had managed to escape the harassment of any otter or vermin, and Luc was already relaxed and was beginning to enjoy herself. Ellen, on the other paw, clutched tightly at her staff and snapped at Luc whenever he made an attempt at casual conversation. After his fourth attempt to lighten Ellen up and having no luck, the squirrel had kept silent.  
  
Mossflower was still damp from the storm that had struck the previous night. Wet grass squished under Luc's feet as he walked, and although most of the moisture had evaporate from the leaves above him, an occasional dewdrop still managed to find its way down to the ground. The sun shone brightly, and kept Luc warm even through the cover of the treetops. The only thing about the walk that made it seem less relaxing than it could have been was Ellen.  
  
"There!" whispered the squirrelmaid to Luc, whipping around and pointing her staff toward the bushes off the path. "I heard something there!" Luc didn't take Ellen to seriously, as she had already called two false alarms this far into the walk, but he still stepped forward and raised his staff toward the bushes. After waiting for about half a minute to see if there was any movement in the bushes, Luc relaxed.  
  
"There's nothing in there," Luc said, tensing as he uttered the words. He had said the same thing when Ellen had pointed out the previous false alarms to him. Both times, she had whacked him in the legs with her staff.  
  
This time, though, she merely sighed and shook her head. "I guess I'm getting a bit jumpy about this. I might have even been wrong about the otters coming out here ahead of me, though I'd certainly believe it of them. And sorry about snapping at you, Luc. I think I'll just try to enjoy myself." Ellen ran ahead of Luc, carrying her herb gathering basket in one paw and clutching her staff tightly in the other. Luc was puzzled by Ellen's abrupt change of mood, but he didn't object. Allowing himself a small smile, he hurried after her.  
  
Less than ten minutes later, Ellen had gathered all the herbs she'd set out to find. Her basket was perched on a rock, and she and Luc were leaned back against a tree. For Luc, the walk had taken an abrupt turn for the better once Ellen lost her jumpiness. He now let himself relax fully, now that he didn't have to worry about being whacked in the legs with Ellen's staff. The squirrelmaid, too, had relaxed as well, if not as fully as Luc had. Even though she sat calmly with her back to the tree, she let her ears pick up any sound that she could make out and gazed carefully at the woodlands around her. Her staff was close at paw, even though she didn't think she'd need it.  
  
"I wonder how Andrew is doing," said Luc quietly as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander. "I doubt the storm affected him too much, but he might've had to stop early once the rain started falling. And I wonder what that he does with that mouse Hake. Somehow, he teaches Luc far better than Cain or Gormin or my father could ever hope to teach. I wonder why Hake never became Redwall's Champion, or fought in the Stormrat War?"  
  
"Maybe he's a peaceful beast," answered Ellen. "He might be good at wielding a weapon, but he could hate war. Maybe he doesn't want to lose anyone in battle like Andrew lost his mother. But then, he's a hermit. What could he have to lose?"  
  
"I don't know. But Andrew seems to be turning into a better warrior than either of us. Maybe someday, he'll be the next Abbey Champion. Even though the Stormrats are good and gone, there are still plenty of vermin in Mossflower that he would need to defend the Abbey from." Luc shifted his legs, and felt his dagger rub up against his footpaws. "I wonder about him, sometimes. He seems older than he is. A lot like Gormin, except even more quiet. Maybe that's how it always is with beasts destined to be Champions?"  
  
"Yeah, there is something strange about him," said Ellen. "But I don't mind. He's been like that as far back as I can remember. Even before his mother died. I just don't understand him, sometimes."  
  
"There are many beasts I don't understand," said Luc. "Andrew's just one of them. Maybe I'm just not wise enough to figure everybody out." Luc stood. "We should probably start going back to the Abbey. I don't think it's smart to stay in one part of Mossflower for too long, even if the area is supposed to be safe. But can we take our time in getting back to Redwall? I'm just starting to relax, and I want to stay away from chores for a bit longer."  
  
Ellen smiled, and also got to her feet. "Yes, we should take our time. No reason to hurry back when the weather is so nice and welcoming."  
  
"I bet Andrew was thinking something like that when he left Redwall yesterday," Luc joked. "Who knows when the weather could tu-."  
  
Luc was cut off by a furry paw clamping over his mouth. He reached up his own paws to try to pry it away and began to struggle, but the beast that had caught him was strong and did not seem as if it wanted to let Luc go.  
  
"Stop struggling," hissed the voice of the beast who caught him. Luc was both relieved and annoyed to hear the voice of Kiran. He let his body go limp and allowed the otter to drag him into the bushes on the side of the path that he and Ellen had been walking. He saw Ellen being dragged into the bushes by one of Kiran's friends, but she was putting up more of a fight. The otter snorted disgustedly, and with one strong pull of his arms, brought Ellen into the bushes with them.  
  
"Hush already!" hissed the otter, who Luc recognized as being a Redwaller named Retherin. "Shut up unless you want the vermin to get you!"  
  
Ellen lifted up her paws and removed Retherin's paws from her mouth. "Vermin?" she said quietly, glaring at Kiran and Retherin. "Is this some sort of joke? This is supposed to be a safe place. An area free of vermin. Do you expect me to believe-."  
  
Retherin once again clamped his paw over Ellen's mouth, and she didn't even bother to struggle as she saw three ferrets enter the clearing. Each of them bore a short dagger, but they would have looked fearsome even without the weapons. Luc saw his friend shudder with revulsion. It was the first time Ellen had seen a vermin, and the first time he had, as well. In truth, they didn't look very different from a Redwaller, but the way in which they moved struck a sort of fear into Luc's heart. Their ripped clothing also added to the disgust he felt for them, and the blood that stained one of the ferret's paws almost drove Luc into a panic. Surely Kiran had set out with more than one other otter, whatever he planned to do. But that would mean that those monsters had killed a Redwaller.  
  
"Where did them other otters go?" asked one of the ferrets in a rough voice. "We slain two of 'em, but that'll only give us enough food for a couple days. If we could get the rest o' them, we'd have at least enough meat t' last us for ten days. They're as big as we're, but I don't think they've ever fought before. We could get them without much of a fight."  
  
Another one of the ferrets sniggered. "I don't think they've even seen a ferrit before, m' brothers! Might be some tough lookin' beasts, but they're too green to fight us."  
  
They're going to eat otters...? The initial horror that had overcome Luc as he had heard them say this was erased from his mind by a flash of hatred as he watched the ferrets move slowly along the path, joking and laughing about their prey. "We can take 'em," the squirrel whispered, releasing his staff and working the dagger he carried out of his boot. "We know how to fight."  
  
"Are you crazy, mate?" hissed Kiran. "We'll get slaughtered, just like Stranwin and Githe."  
  
"Did ye hear somethin'," asked one of the ferrets. Squirrel and otter fell silent immediately. The vermin gazed around the woods, peering into each tree. Luc was sure he could feel their gaze as it passed over him, but by some miracle or another, they didn't see him. "Ah. I must've been dreamin'."  
  
"Hey. The tracks get small'r 'round here," said one ferret, pointing down. "Looks like other beasts. And it seems like the otters took to the bushes..."  
  
Luc didn't know what sort of wordless signal passed between the beasts huddled in the bushes, but almost as one, the two otters charged forward, followed closely by Ellen, who held her spear out in front of her as both a shield and a weapon. Luc was a moment behind them, having taken the time to work the dagger out of his boot and into his paw.  
  
"Redwall!" howled Kiran in a voice that was a mixture of agony and rage. The otter lunged at one of the ferrets, sweeping the vermin's footpaws out from under him. The ferret raised the dagger he held in a feeble attempt to defend himself, but the enraged otter ripped the weapon from the ferret's grasp and tossed it aside. With an insane look on his face, Kiran closed his paws around the throat of the ferret and began to slowly throttle the beast.  
  
Retherin was also fighting a ferret, but he wasn't doing as well as Kiran was. The ferret that was fighting Retherin tried to get in close to the otter and slash at him with his dagger, but the otter swiped his paws forward at the ferret and sent him dodging backward, trying to keep out of the beast's reach. Retherin dodged the ferret's blows in a similar manner, and it seemed that neither of them were making any progress against the other.  
  
The ferret Ellen was fighting circled the squirrelmaid, dodging away from her as she lashed out at him with her staff. But even though her blows didn't hurt the ferret, they prevented him from getting close enough to swipe at her with his dagger.  
  
Luc caught the ferret as it circled Ellen. Silently and quickly, he plunged the blade of his dagger into the back of the ferret's neck. With a hideous gurgle, the vermin fell to the ground, taking Luc's dagger with it. The young squirrel leaped backward, staring in shock at what he had just done.  
  
Ellen was quick to come to Retherin's aid when she saw that he wasn't getting anywhere on his own. Together, the squirrel and otter managed to back the ferret up towards a tree. When he saw that he was outnumbered, with an otter and a squirrel up against him and Kiran rising from the limp body of the ferret he had killed, the ferret turned the other way and ran.  
  
Instead of giving pursuit, Kiran slumped to the ground and stared at the body of the ferret he killed. Ellen and Retherin gazed in horror at the scene of death their wrath had caused, and Luc sank to his knees and wept. Am I a murderer, he though, seeing the ferret's blood staining the dagger in its neck. Luc's dagger. He was the one responsible for the ferret's death. What have I done? he thought frantically. Then he buried his face in his paws and wept. 


	4. Chapter Four

It was almost time for lunch at Redwall. Cain roamed the Abbey grounds, waiting impatiently for Colin to alert him when the meal started. Lunch today would be when the Abbess gave Lord Rocketh's request for aid to the residents of Redwall. He hoped with all his heart that the Redwallers would choose to send aid to Lord Rocketh, but either way, he would be traveling to help the Badger Lord. I will see to it that the Stormrats do not win, the mouse told himself. In his mind, those words were a promise.  
  
The mouse stooped down to gaze at a small flower on the ground. White petals spread out from the center, and it swayed with a faint breeze that brushed through the air. Somehow, it brought an imaged of his deceased wife, Kelly, to his mind. There was no reason for him to think of her, nothing similar between the flower and the sweet mouse that had died five seasons ago, but it still reminded him of her. Almost everything, within the Abbey and outside of it, reminded him of her.  
  
And his son Andrew, the beast that held the most happiness for Cain, reminded him of Kelly the most. No matter how hard he tried, Cain couldn't stop the pain from showing in him. Other beasts didn't seem to see it, but Andrew, the one beast that he made himself live for, knew the pain that he caused his father. As far as Cain could see, Andrew didn't feel any guilt, and rightfully so. He had not been the beast that murdered Kelly. But Cain felt guilt, for letting his son see the pain that his presence caused him.  
  
Cain reached out to take the flower, but stayed his paw before it closed around it. It would be like killing her, he thought, still thinking of Kelly. The mouse withdrew his paw and stood, leaving the flower untouched. He then continued his walk, taking care not to catch any flowers under his feet.  
  
His walk continued uneventfully until he approached the main gate of Redwall. The double doors stood open, and Gormin and Jacob stood in front of two squirrels and a pair of otters. Cain recognized the squirrels as Ellen and Luc, his son's two closest friends. He couldn't fit a name to the otters, but he recognized them as part of a group of four that had left Redwall that morning.  
  
The squirrelmaid, Ellen, had a look of horror on her face, and was doing her best to comfort Luc, who seemed to be far more horrified than the squirrelmaid and had an expression on his face that made Cain think of a lost dibbun. The otters both had similar combinations of anger and grief on their faces, and tears fell like rain from their eyes. Gormin was talking to the otters, while Jacob was helping Ellen comfort Luc. A feeling of dread filled Cain's heart, and he hastened over to the gathering by the gate.  
  
"What happened?" he asked quietly. Cain went over to Gormin, who was listening to one of the otters talk through his tears. The squirrel raised his hand to signal the otter who was talking to stop, and turned to Cain.  
  
"These otters had gone off into Mossflower for a morning away from the Abbey. After walking for a couple hours, they were approached by three ferrets. The vermin seemed friendly, but they killed two of the otters. These two ran, and came across Luc and Ellen. They hid in the bushes, but the ferrets saw that their footprints lead in that direction. Somehow, the otters and the squirrels managed to kill two of the ferrets and chase the other one away into Mossflower. The otters wanted to go and find their friends' bodies, but Luc was so distraught that they decided to come back to Redwall." Gormin sighed and shook his head. There was something in his eyes that told Cain that the squirrel blamed himself, even though there was no rational reason for him to. "That place was supposed to be safe from this sort of thing. We're going to have to do something..."  
  
"Gormin, could the ferrets have been part of the Stormrat horde?" asked Cain. "It could be disastrous for Redwall if they've traveled this far east already. There could be more of those monsters, lurking in Mossflower Wood!"  
  
"I don't believe for a second that those ferrets came from the Stormrat horde," answered Gormin. "In the last war, the vermin that followed the Stormrats were more disciplined than any Redwallers have fought in recent history, and would never have allowed beasts inexperienced in the ways of war to defeat them. Even though we killed off most of the Stormrats, I find it impossible to believe that the quality of the soldiers would change so drastically."  
  
"So that means that our safe areas aren't so safe anymore," said Cain. He felt bitter. The deaths of the two otters should never have happened, especially in an area of Mossflower that was well-known to be free of vermin. But if the Stormrats hadn't been the cause of it, then it could only mean that either the vermin in Mossflower Wood were becoming more aggressive, or they had rallied under some vermin leader. Either conclusion would mean that the Abbey would need to be better defended. "Oh, no..." breathed Cain.  
  
The look in Gormin's eye said quite plainly that Cain's dark thoughts had already occurred to him. The squirrel lead Cain away from the other beasts, and when they had reached a distance from which they were unlikely to be overheard from, he spoke the thoughts that were flashing in a panicked haze through Cain's mind. "There's no way that the Abbey will vote to send help to Lord Rocketh, once they learn of the killings in the safe area. If our own Mossflower Woods aren't safe, why should we care about what's happening on the coast?"  
  
"You don't actually believe that, do you Gormin?" said Cain in a dangerously low voice. "If the Long Patrol is overrun, there's no way this Abbey can defend itself. We must fight the Stormrats together to have any chance at all of keeping our lands safe. A few ferrets acting up in Mossflower is absolutely nothing compared to a horde of vermin led by a Stormrat!" Cain reached out his paw to grab Gormin's shoulder. "The rest of Redwall must not know about the murder! They need to support Lord Rocketh, and there's no way they will if they find out what happened!"  
  
"They would support the Badger Lord if Martin the Warrior told them to," spat Gormin. His voice now held the sound of bitter jealousy. "But no matter what I would say, they'd decide against it. After all, who would trust a Champion that doesn't hold the sword? We were unlucky enough to lose the sword generations ago, and the effects of its loss still exist today! I can't do half of what Martin could, not without his sword!"  
  
Cain didn't know how to respond to this, so he kept the topic of the conversation on the matter at hand. "We need to keep them quiet. Jacob, Ellen, Luc, and the otters. We must act as if nothing is amiss, and then the vote of the Redwallers will probably fall toward helping Lord Rocketh. Only after the Abbey's defenders have set out to help the Long Patrol can we reveal what took place with the ferrets and the otters."  
  
"That's a cold decision," said Gormin, glaring at Cain. "And furthermore, it's my place to make it. I am the Champion of Redwall, and even though I don't hold Martin's sword, I still have more authority than the second best!"  
  
Gormin's words stung, but Cain fought to keep his emotions under control. "We must do this," he said, trying to restrain his emotions and remain as calm as he could. "If we don't, all of Mossflower will be overrun! The lives of two otters may mean much to us now, but there's much more at stake here! Some sacrifices must be made!"  
  
"Would you have said that before you lost Kelly?" asked Gormin, his voice smoldering with anger. "Two lives ended today. Their families will be distraught, and we have no right to send them to war. Even if we somehow managed to conceal the deaths of their children from them, how would they feel upon returning home? I would be removed from my position as Redwall's Champion, and at best, both of us would be exiled! I'm not willing to make that sacrifice!"  
  
"If you cannot do this, you will never live up to the name of Martin the Warrior. He lost the life of the one he loved, and still managed to found the Abbey that we live in today. Gormin, you have no idea how losing someone that you loved more than anything, more than your own soul, can tear up a beast's heart. Martin the Warrior went through all that, and he managed to become the hero that we know him as today. He lost Laterose, and you're afraid of losing a title and a comfortable place to sleep? He would be ashamed of you."  
  
Gormin look at the ground, and Cain felt almost certain that he had convinced the squirrel to prevent the rest of Redwall from learning about the murder. When he looked up, the feeling of certainty was complete. The squirrel's expression had hardened into one of regretful acceptance. "The souls of this Abbey's founders will damn us from beyond the gates of Dark Forest for what we will do."  
  
"I know," answered Cain. "But it must be done. Maybe they'll forgive us for the harm we will cause the residents of this Abbey if the war against the Stormrats succeeds."  
  
"I doubt it," answered Gormin bitterly. "But perhaps the beasts living in Mossflower will thank us, someday. But I know that we will not have their thanks for our actions. You're sure of this, Cain? You want to betray the trust of the beasts in this Abbey?"  
  
"I'm sure." Cain nodded toward Jacob, who was standing away from Luc as Ellen comforted him. "Will he help us? Jacob always seemed to be the type to do the right thing to me, but he's sensible. We could try to make him see it our way. Would he?"  
  
"Yes," answered Gormin after a few moments' pause. "He would conceal our actions until a day or so after Redwall's defenders left for Salamandastron. I think he could keep the squirrels and the otters locked up in the gatehouse, if we had some sort of formula to keep them asleep. Would Sister Rain help us?"  
  
"I don't know. But I'm not willing to risk it. I know a bit about herbology myself, and I think I could come up with a sleeping potion strong enough to keep them inactive for a few days if I had enough lanceroot. I don't think that those four would be missed much during the excitement of having beasts depart Redwall, and if their families do question where they are, I can just claim they went to follow my son to see if he's alright. Jacob could reveal what we did when we had left."  
  
"The squirrelmaid was supposed to go herb gathering. I don't think Sister Rain would accept that she would shirk her tasks like that." Gormin shook his head, and Cain almost laughed when he saw that the squirrel was shaken by the situation he and Cain had put themselves in.  
  
"Ellen is known to shirk her tasks. It would take only a small stretch of mind for Sister Rain to believe that she had left. I - " Cain stopped as he remembered that Colin was supposed to be coming for him. He, Gormin, Jacob, and the younger beasts were out here alone, but if somebody else knew the truth of their return it would be much harder to hide the murder from the Abbey. "I gotta go. Colin could come out here any minute. Tell Jacob what to do with the young ones, and I'll go to Great Hall. Come inside as soon as you're sure Jacob will listen."  
  
~~~  
  
Cain met Colin walking out of the doors of Great Hall, and managed to turn the squirrel around before he could catch a glimpse of what was happening at the main gate. Cain kept silent while he and Colin walked to Great Hall, and though his companion did try to coax him into talking, Cain remained silent and kept his attention focused on what he would say to the Redwallers that would be at lunch.  
  
Even though there were, at most, two hundred fifty Redwallers living with the Abbey, Cain could have sworn that there were at least a thousand when he walked into Great Hall. There were Abbeybeasts situated around all the tables within Great Hall, and their chatter seemed to drown out Cain's thoughts. But he overcame the nervousness that threatened to take control of him and regained a grip on his thoughts. You grew up with these beasts. You know them, and they know you. But even as Cain was trying to convince himself that the Redwallers would listen, another part of his mind carried a different message. You're betraying them. You're lying to them. There's no way they'd help the Long Patrol if they knew what happened in Mossflower today.  
  
Cain took a seat. Colin sat down at his left, and Skipper was already in the seat to his right. The otter was as close to Abbess Elm as he could place himself. Foremole sat on the other side of the Abbess, and there was an empty seat next to him where Gormin would sit. There was no seat left for Jacob, partly because he would rather allow himself to be lost in thought than carry out a conversation at dinner and partly because he rarely ever came to meals.  
  
"Y'ready to convince these beasts to go to war?" asked Skipper, leaving the plate and goblet in front of him empty of any food or drink. Cain nodded, giving the otter a confident smile. Skipper would've known the two who died today... Cain cut of that line of thought before it could lead to anything more than simple words in his mind - such as guilt. There would be time enough for regret later on, after Redwall's warriors had left the Abbey.  
  
The Abbess stood, and the chatter slowly dwindled into a low murmur that she could speak over. After seeing Gormin's empty seat out of the corner of her eye, she sent Cain a questioning glance. The mouse gave a shrug of his shoulders, and Abbess Elm sighed and began to speak.  
  
"I asked that all beasts within these walls attend this lunch because I have dire news to give to you. Last night, Candice, a hare of the Long Patrol, arrived here during the storm bearing dire news from Lord Rocketh. I do not believe that I should be the beast to deliver these tidings to you, so I will ask our guest to give you the news herself." Abbess Elm took her seat, and Candice, who was seated several seats to Cain's right and had escaped his notice when he had entered Great Hall, stood and cleared her throat.  
  
"A couple days ago, a group o' Long Patrol hares was attacked south of Salamandastron by part of a vermin horde. This is actually nothin' unusual. Happens all the time, wot. But the thing that stood out about these vermin was their leader, and their effective fighting style. Y' may think me a liar, but here's the truth. The beast in charge o' those vermin was none other than a flippin' Stormrat."  
  
All the chatter in Great Hall ceased and was replaced by a deathly silence. Redwallers glanced nervously at each other, and fear was plain in their faces. Even though many had heard the news the night before, it was still shocking for some of them, and those who had only stayed for a portion of the discussion of Cavern Hole still seemed suprised to hear the news said in front of the entire population of Redwall.  
  
The silence was finally broken by a young otter, who stood up and glared at Candice. "You're lyin'. I don't believe you."  
  
Candice sighed. "I knew at least one o' you was gonna say somethin' along those lines. I assure you that Lord Rocketh is certain of the threat. He wouldn't' have sent me if he wasn't. One of the Stormrats is back, an' Lord Rocketh wants you Redwallers to help him fight whatever horde the beast may 'ave gathered."  
  
The same otter that had spoken before shook his head vehemently. "I don't see why we should help you. The Long Patrol has been able to handle everything except the Stormrats on their own, and even if one of the Stormrats survived the war, they couldn't gather a horde as strong as the one they had before they attacked Salamandastron and Mossflower."  
  
"We were weakened by the Stormrat War, too," answered Candice. "Alone, we can't fight against the numbers a Stormrat would be likely to rally. Without the help of Redwall, we can't hope to win."  
  
"The hare is right," said Gormin, walking into Great Hall. All eyes turned to the warrior squirrel, who seemed to be unaware that he was late. He knows, he's just hiding it well, thought Cain. "Before she came last night, we were all sure that every one of the Stormrats had been slaughtered five seasons ago. But Lord Rocketh seems certain that we failed to kill them off, and now they're back. And before you ask what they can do to us here in Redwall, I'll ask you if we could realistically fight off a horde if they decimated the Long Patrol and turned on Mossflower. If we're to defeat them, we must fight them on a united front, or not at all."  
  
The otter sat down sullenly, and Gormin made his way over to the seat at Foremole's right. The leader of Redwall's mole population had a grim look on his face, and it struck Cain that he had not been among the beasts gathered in Cavern Hole that morning when the Abbess had asked their personal opinions about going to war. I wonder which way he'll vote, thought Cain, subconsciously reaching out to take his goblet and turning it in his hands.  
  
Abbess Elm stood again. "I wanted you all here so that we could decide through a vote whether or not we'll be sending aid to Lord Rocketh. I've already asked some of the beasts that were with me through the morning what they think of it, but I'd like to hear what the rest of the Abbey thinks we should do. Based on what the majority opinion is, we either will or will not send aid to Lord Rocketh. Do any of you have things that you wish to say before I ask you to decide what we will do?"  
  
Pandemonium broke out in Great Hall. A hundred beasts began talking at once, some whispering to beasts sitting close by them, and others trying to make themselves heard above the loud chatter that had erupted within Great Hall. And even after they realized that they were, for the most part, not being listen to, most beasts didn't have the sense to stop talking and allow the noise in Great Hall to die down. Abbess Elm, instead of trying to project her voice over the noise, waved her hands frantically, but it only restored a few Redwallers to silence.  
  
Cain shook his head in disgust. We're never going to get things done this way, he thought. But unlike the rest of the Redwallers, Cain kept quiet. He hoped that the noise would die down eventually, and kept his seat based on that hope, but the temptation to get up and walk out of Great Hall was almost overwhelmingly strong.  
  
Fortunately, the noise did eventually die down, but it was a lengthy process. Seemingly one by one, each of the Redwallers realized that the noise they were making did not contribute much and in fact added on to the chaos, and fell silent. When the noise died down enough that Gormin could make himself heard, he shouted as loud as he could.  
  
"Stop this racket! If you want to talk, we'll talk one by one! At this rate, we'll get nothing done. Now sit down, and we'll speak one by one. You're worse than dibbuns!"  
  
The Redwallers who were talking stopped, and those that were on their feet slowly sank down to their seats. "Now, we'll take this conversation bit by bit, since it doesn't seem there's any other way to do it civilly. Now, Nurvan," said Gormin, pointing at a mole who had been one of the first to quiet down. "What is it that you wanted to say?"  
  
"Ees Lord Rocketh sure that ee vurmeen are such a threat to us ere?" asked Nurvan.  
  
"Yes, he is quite sure," answered Candice. "If they don't head north for Salamandastron, they'll head east into Mossflower to take over the woodlands, and then your Abbey. And if Salamandastron falls, the only thing standing between that horde and Redwall are the beasts of Mossflower Country and the Guosim. Both of them are unreliable allies, since the beasts throughout Mossflower aren't organized an' the Guosim travel enough that their whereabouts are uncertain. You need t' help Salamandastron, because Redwall won't be able t' stand on its own."  
  
"Is Lord Rocketh sure that this horde is being led by a Stormrat?" asked a mouse sitting at the other end of the table from Cain. "Maybe it's being led be a big rat, or maybe the Long Patrol hares are just wrong about what happened." Cain smiled as he heard this. He had used the same method of denial, and it took only a few choice words from Skipper and himself to bring that beast around to the cause of the war.  
  
Arguments for and against war were tossed back and forth against the table, and Cain was unable to tell which beast would vote which way when the time for their final opinion to be cast came. But one thing was made certain to the mouse - most of the reasons for wanting to deny aid to Lord Rocketh involved the consequences of leaving Redwall and its surrounding lands undefended. A few arguments were made that Redwall should remain peaceful until the Stormrats reached the Abbey gates, but those that had fought in the last war and witnessed the ruthlessness of the vermin knew better. The younger beasts grudgingly admitted the wisdom of their elders, but both the young and the old were divided on one thing - what would happen to Redwall while its warriors were away?  
  
Gormin, Foremole, Skipper, and the Abbey's other leaders attempted to sway the beasts within Great Hall to their line of thinking. To Cain's relief, Foremole gave his wholehearted support toward joining the fight, although he said so reluctantly. But other beasts, such as Sister Rain and some of the other, more peaceful Redwallers, refused to budge in their position against war. Those whose opinions were uncertain were put under pressure from both sides of the argument, and Cain was sure that personal loyalties came into play when those who were uncertain finally made their decision. To his eye, some beasts still looked uncertain, and he wished there was something he could do to convince them that war was the right path.  
  
When Abbess Elm decided that enough time had been given for everybeast to voice his or her opinions, it was nearly dinnertime, and the food was mostly untouched. Poor Friar Paul looked at the untouched plates in dismay; he had gone out of his way to cook something special when the Abbess told him that a very important meeting would be held in Great Hall that day, and it must have been disappointing for him to see his efforts go unappreciated. But despite his wounded pride, the fat mouse wheeled the plates away to the kitchen on his trey, no doubt going to the kitchens to ask for more work out of his devoted cooks.  
  
Once the tables were clear, the Abbess stood and raised her paws for silence. Unlike before, the hubbub died down almost immediately, though a few murmurs and hushed whispers were still audible. Abbess Elm either didn't mind or didn't notice, because she went on to speak over the noise.  
  
"You have heard the opinions of your fellow Abbeybeasts, and most of you have come to a decision. Now it is time to take a vote, either for or against war with this vermin horde. I will keep my opinion on this matter to myself, because it would not do for me to influence the decisions of my fellow beasts. But I will give you one thing to think on while it comes time for you to give your vote: think of what the founders of Redwall would do in your position. Would they keep the peace in Redwall for as long as they could, or would they send off an army to the coast to fight off a tyrant's horde?" Abbess Elm looked around Great Hall, her eyes searching for somebeast. "Where is our recorder? I would like him to count the votes submitted, and make a tally when I give the results you will record to him."  
  
The results you will record? though Cain. And then it came to him that the Abbess was making this vote a private one, thus keeping a beast's opinions to his or her self and making the pressure on a beast to do as a friend was doing considerably less. When he looked at some of the beasts that seemed uncertain or tense about their votes, he found that a great many of them looked relaxed in comparison to how they had appeared before.  
  
"Jacob remained in the gatehouse to organize his records," answered Gormin smoothly. The squirrel lied well, and the Redwallers had no cause to suspect that their Champion was lying to them. "He did, however, give me parchment, and our Abbess has supplied us with quill and ink so that we may write our votes so they may remain private. She herself will collect the ballots, and give them to Jacob so he may tally them."  
  
Then the Abbess told the beasts to stand in a line from one end of the room's three long tables to the other. Six lines of about two score beasts each were formed, and they walked forward to write their vote on parchment, fold it, and give it to the Abbess for safe keeping. Honest and true, the aged mouse did not look at the writing on the ballots that the Redwallers had given her. Cain was one of the first in his line to write down his vote, and after he had given his ballot to the Abbess, he hurried toward Gormin, who was waiting for him.  
  
Redwall's Champion appeared casual to Cain's eye, but the mouse could imagine the turmoil raging inside him. "I think that the vote will be for going to war, but we need to keep those youngbeasts in the gatehouse until several days after the warriors leave. I already had Ellen's mother ask me where she was, and I used your tale about her going after your son with the other squirrel and the otters. She seemed to believe it, but she will spread my lie as truth, and we cannot afford to have it exposed until the warriors are well away. Now's your chance, Cain. Go to the Infirmary to find some lanceroot, and I'll make sure to be the beast that delivers the ballots to Jacob."  
  
Cain nodded and headed for the stairs leading to the Infirmary. Most other beasts were occupied by either the ballots or their companions, but Cain moved quickly to help lessen the risk of being seen. Once he got into the Infirmary, he hurriedly pulled open the cabinet and looked through Sister Rain's supply of roots and herbs. Luckily for him, she had enough lanceroot that she wouldn't take much notice if he snuck some away. He hid the bags in his shirt and hurried back to Great Hall. When he saw that Gormin was still standing with the Abbess, he walked toward the entrance, doing his best to appear calm on the outside even though he felt like he was twisting on the inside.  
  
He found Jacob waiting nervously at the entrance to the gatehouse. "I told them I'd get them some tea from inside the Abbey. I've been out here for five minutes already, and was wondering if you had the lanceroot." Cain nodded and handed the stolen herbs to the recorder. He nodded and went back into the gatehouse, and Cain walked back to the Abbey.  
  
In about ten minutes' time, it was Cain, Skipper, Abbess Elm, and Gormin that delivered the ballots to Jacob. The recorder mouse opened his door calmly and took the ballots inside, leaving the deliverers outside of the gatehouse and giving Skipper and the Abbess no clue of what was going on within. They went off to wait for dinner, and gave Jacob time to tally the results of the vote.  
  
Afterwards, Jacob took the Abbess aside to deliver the results. She announced them after dessert.  
  
"We are going to war," she said solemnly. "I won't reveal how close or far the vote was, but we will be sending warriors to the coast to fight the Stormrats."  
  
Cain sighed with relief and sank into his chair. His deceit had worked so far. He only hoped that it would keep working until the Redwallers departed, and that the Stormrat horde wouldn't render his efforts futile. 


	5. Chapter Five

Andrew rapped his paw on the door to Hake's hut, and waited for about half a minute. When nobeast answered, the mouse walked around the hut and into the trees. After about a minute of walking, he came across his mentor, Hake, sitting alone with his eyes closed on a rock behind the hut.  
  
Even though the old mouse's fur had turned grey, he was still a better warrior than even Gormin. Yet for some reason, he had stayed out of the Stormrat War and every other form of conflict except defending his hut from the local villains. Andrew had asked why, but Hake had answered his questions with a plea for privacy. Like a good student and friend, Andrew had not pried further.  
  
Hake's ears twitched as Andrew approached, and he turned to greet the younger mouse with a smile on his face. "You came through the storm," he said, shaking his head and chuckling. "Reckless. I wouldn't expect that from somebody as cautious as yourself, Andrew."  
  
Andrew's ears turned red. "It wasn't raining or windy when I left Redwall, Hake. There was no reason to believe that there was going to be a storm last night."  
  
After letting out a rasping laugh, Hake pointed at Andrew's damp clothing. "Take those off, young 'un. I plan to talk to you and train you, and you can't do either very while when you're uncomfortable." Andrew began to take his clothes off, but modesty got the best of him and he refrained from taking off his breeches. "If you're that modest, go use some of the spare clothes you brought here last time and change inside my hut." Andrew nodded and turned around. Before he was out of earshot, he heard Hake mutter, "It's not as if some pretty mousemaid is going to wander along and see him without his clothes on."  
  
Feeling more embarrassed than even his friend Ellen had made him in quite a while, Andrew walked into Hake's hut and looked around for the spare clothes he had brought. He had left them by the door when he arrived last time, but Hake had moved them since the last time he had visited the mouse. After a quick scan of the inside of the hut, Andrew spotted his clothing tucked away under a battered wooden chair in an unused area of the hut. Andrew took off his damp breeches, and put on the clothing that was under the chair. Then he put his sword belt back on, and walked out.  
  
When he exited the hut, Hake was nowhere to be seen. Andrew sighed, and drew his sword from its sheath. Hake did this to him often, to test his wits and see if he could remain aware of his surroundings. The older mouse would leap out at him from wherever he was hiding, trying to beat Andrew to the ground with a sturdy staff or throwing sticks and stones at him. In the past, Andrew had only managed to fend off Hake once. He could've had me while I was slipping my clothes on, though Andrew. I should be careful...  
  
The young mouse looked into every bush, and reached out his hearing to pick out anything that wouldn't pass as a normal noise that would be heard in Mossflower. He knew that doing so wouldn't help him much, since Hake had learned long ago to blend in with the noises of the woodlands, but it was better to be wary than careless.  
  
Andrew walked forward slowly, keeping his sword raised in front of him and listening to every woodland sound. At every snap of a twig, his muscles tensed, but when Hake didn't leap from the bushes he relaxed. The younger mouse moved forward, and didn't stop. If he stopped moving, he would be an easier target for Hake if the older mouse chose to throw sticks or stones at him. The first time Hake had done that, Andrew had had his footpaws planted firmly on the ground, and was unable to move away in time. This time, he was ready for thrown objects.  
  
The first attack came from Andrew's right. A pebble flew through the air, straight toward where Andrew was standing. The mouse jumped back, letting the pebble go sailing past him, and turned to face the bushes where the attack had come from. He inched forward slowly, keeping himself ready to jump out of the way if he needed to and watching and listening carefully for any movement that would signal Hake's retreat.  
  
Try as he might, Andrew couldn't see or hear anything out of the ordinary in the bushes. He started to back away, wondering where Hake had gone. When he was several meters from the bushes, he heard a snap from the bushes to the right and turned his head in that direction.  
  
Hake jumped out of the bushes that he had thrown the pebble at Andrew from and threw a pawful of twigs and dirt at the younger mouse's face. Andrew ducked his head and swung his sword at Hake, who blocked the strike with his metal staff. With agility that was surprising for anybeast of his age, Hake jumped back, pointed the staff at Andrew, and lunged. Andrew stepped aside as quickly as he could, and swung his sword so the flat of the blade would catch Hake in his side. But the older mouse jumped away and brought his staff up again.  
  
"You're getting better at this, young un'," said Hake, grinning at Andrew. He was missing teeth, probably from fighting when he was younger, but Andrew had known Hake for several seasons and didn't take notice. "But don't think you can beat a seasoned warrior like me. Give it all you've got, and don't go easy on me. I can see that you don't want to hit me with the sharp of that blade, so let me tell you this - you won't."  
  
If anyone had the right to make a claim like that, it was Hake. Andrew might fare well when he practiced with his fellow Redwallers such as his friend Luc, and occasionally Ellen. Even the Abbeybeasts a few seasons older than him were unable to best him. Only beasts that were old enough and experienced enough to have fought in the Stormrat War were able to beat him, and none of them other than his father and Gormin took him seriously. So out of the beasts that Andrew practiced with, only Hake gave him a challenge, and Andrew was certain that his mentor was holding back when they practiced.  
  
Andrew drew back from Hake, and held his sword out in front of him. The older mouse also stepped back, and crouched down with his staff held in front of him. After a few moments of waiting, Hake sprung forward, swinging his staff toward Andrew. He parried, and swung his sword at his Hake. The older beast jumped back, and waited until Andrew's momentum left him open to an attack, and lunged forward again. Andrew only managed to dodge by jerking back suddenly. With a heavier weapon, his muscles would've had to strain to pull back like that, but this sword was short and light, so he was able to make quick movements with it without strain.  
  
Hake turned toward Andrew, and put his staff up in a defensive position. He tensed his legs, and Andrew braced himself for another lunge. But instead of leaping forward to attack, he jumped back and sprinted off into the bushes.  
  
This caught Andrew completely by surprise. Hake had never run from him before, and Andrew immediately assumed that his mentor was leading him into some sort of trap. But losing sight of the mouse would be worse than following him, so Andrew sprinted after him, his sword held at his side.  
  
For any other beast his age, running with a sword in paw, even one as light as the blade Andrew wielded, would have been a strain. But Hake had made Andrew run laps with his own sword, a heavy broadsword that Hake kept in peak condition, to condition him for running with a weapon in paw. Even after working with the broadsword, Andrew was still not strong enough to fight with a heavier blade as well as he fought with his own sword. He needed to practice more with a bigger weapon, he realized as he ran.  
  
Andrew was able to keep up a good pace in his pursuit, but soon his muscles began to ache. His steps didn't falter, though, and he kept following Hake as the mouse dodged between trees, over roots, and sometimes even around stones and tree trunks. Caution came first, and Andrew was ready for Hake to leap out at him at any time. A few times, Hake ducked behind a tree. When he did, Andrew ran the other way so he could see his mentor instead of charging straight ahead.  
  
After a few more minutes of this pursuit, Hake came to a stream flowing across the woodlands. Instead of turning, Hake bounded forward and jumped across the flowing water. He just barely made his leap, and continued running after he had crossed the stream. Andrew felt frustration boil up within him. He had never made a leap like this before. Did Hake expect him to be able to do it as easily as he had? Obviously, yes, since the mouse had continued on into the trees. Taking a deep breath, Andrew slid his sword into its sheath and ran even faster. Luckily, his leg muscles were up to the task. When he reached the bank of the stream, he threw himself into the air.  
  
He didn't make it. Although the jump was impressive for a mouse of his age, he fell short of the other bank by about a quarter of the distance. He felt his footpaws sink into the water, and he drew in his breath.  
  
When his footpaws touched bottom when the stream was only up to his waste, he felt like a fool. He stumbled on the pebbles gathered under the water and plunged headfirst into the stream. Andrew flailed his limbs and shoved up against the bottom of the stream, and brought his head up above the water. He reached up a paw to wipe the water from his eyes, but was stopped when Hake's metal staff swung down in front of his face.  
  
Andrew gazed up at Hake, who was smiling at Andrew. "I hope that teaches you to look before you leap, young un'," he said. "This stream flows into the River Moss, and it's quite small compared to that one. You should've looked for a crossing, or just tried to see how deep this stream was. But you didn't, and now you've soaked yet another set of clothing. You've got only one more, and if you dirty that one before your other two dry, you'll have to sit around in wet clothing or stay nude." Hake reached out a paw for Andrew, who grasped it and allowed Hake to pull him to the other bank of the stream. "And we both know that you wouldn't like either of those."  
  
Hake led Andrew to a wooden bridge a short way up the stream. "I had to practice many times before being able to make that jump. I made this bridge myself so I could cross the stream when I was younger. And just so you know, there is no reason to jump streams other than to test the strength of your legs. Or if you were chasing someone, like you were me."  
  
When Andrew and Hake arrived back at the cottage, Andrew changed into his last set of clothing and hung his two other sets on a tree branch so they could dry. Hake began to prepare a meal, and Andrew went to sit on the rock that Hake had been at when he arrived. Even though it was hard, it was comfortable, and Andrew was able to sit on it without the least bit of discomfort.  
  
The young mouse closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander to Ellen and Luc, his best friends at Redwall. He wondered where they were, and if they were worried about him. Andrew had sat through storms before, but that one had taken him by surprise.  
  
All too soon, Hake called out to Andrew that the meal he had been preparing was ready. Sighing reluctantly, Andrew heaved himself up from the rock and walked toward the hut, and the food that was waiting for him.  
  
~~~  
  
Sergeant Polwyn had just set out from Salamandastron with two score hares under his command. Including young Merlin. Lord Rocketh sighed from one of Salamandastron's entrances as he watched them run off into the distance. It was such a pity to see beasts so young departing for war, but it was a necessity. Without the contribution of eager beasts like Merlin, the woodlands would be left defenseless and innocent beasts left at the mercy of the Stormrats.  
  
Lord Rocketh chuckled to himself as he thought this, recalling that he had only been Salamandastron's Badger Lord for a bit less than four seasons. Compared to Lord Sunforge, he was as young and inexperienced as Merlin was to an older Long Patrol hare. But Rocketh felt as if he had been born to rule Salamandastron, and for all he knew, he had been. Merlin, on the other paw, had been born in a rough part of Mossflower and made his way to the Long Patrol to escape his life there. He did make a good, if inexperienced, runner, but he had become a Long Patroller out of necessity. He wouldn't have been here if it weren't for his unfortunate circumstances.  
  
The Badger Lord shook his head, trying to clear his mind. It was unlike him to think so much about one particular Long Patroller, especially one as inexperienced as Merlin. Maybe he was getting to attached to the hare, or perhaps the guilt he was experiencing for sending him off to war had a greater effect on him than he knew.  
  
Lord Rocketh turned around and walked back into Salamandastron, closing the entrance behind him. He encountered the occasional hare in the halls, and they were quick to salute and greet him, even though most of them had lived under Lord Sunforge's rule before Lord Rocketh's. I'll never live up to that beast's legacy, thought Rocketh bitterly as he walked through the tunnels of his mountain fortress. Lord Sunforge will go down in history as the brave Badger Lord who fought the Stormrats, and if I am remembered at all it will be as his replacement.  
  
Being a Badger Lord was a solemn duty, and the rulers of Salamandastron were remembered through their accomplishments. Lord Brocktree had founded the Long Patrol, Sunflash the Mace had defeated Swartt Sixclaw, and Lord Rawnblade had helped bring about the downfall of Gabool the Wild. The list went on and on. But sometimes Rocketh wondered which Badger Lords' names had been lost to the knowledge of the Long Patrol and the beasts of Mossflower, and worried that he would be one of them. After all, who would bother to remember a Badger Lord who had done no great deeds in their life?  
  
Rocketh slowly climbed up the stairs that led to the third level of the mountain fortress. His quarters were on that level, and the Badger Lord was overcome by a desire to sleep. But when he came to his quarters, he decided not to go to sleep. He felt too restless, and decided to pace his quarters instead of going back outside. It was easier for him to think in here, which he was able to think of as his domain. Even though the spacious room had been used by Badger Lords who had lived generations before him, Rocketh considered it a place that he belonged more than anywhere else in Salamandastron.  
  
Sometimes, if Lord Rocketh tried hard enough, he could feel the spirits of the Badger Lords that had lived in these chambers in the past. It was as if their memory stood guard over Salamandastron from this place where they spent much of their time in it. But somehow, Rocketh did not find the presence of the Badger Lords pleasant or encouraging. In the times that he could imagine their presence, he felt the greatness of their spirits, and despaired of ever being anything when compared to them.  
  
The glory of the Badger Lords that had ruled this very mountain haunted Lord Rocketh's dreams. Somehow, they had all managed to stand out - through war, peace, or just their personalities. They'd taken care of everything that they had needed to at the time, and some had stood out above the others and done more. How was Lord Rocketh, Badger Lord for only four seasons and with an untried paw in war, supposed to drive off a vermin horde led by, of all beasts, a Stormrat? Lord Sunforge had managed it, but the war cost the Long Patrol so many lives that Salamandastron had still not recovered. To his mind, Lord Rocketh had no hope at all of overcoming what the badger that had been Lord before him almost fell to. It's you that these hares need, not me, thought Lord Rocketh, directing his thoughts not only at Lord Sunforge, but all the Badger Lords that had ruled before him. I cannot lead the Long Patrol as you could, I cannot fight as you have. Why is it me who stands barring the path of the Stormrat's horde, and not any of you?  
  
Groaning in frustration, Lord Rocketh walked over to the window in his wall. Light flowed in through it, but the badger was not looking at the sun's light. He stared out at the sea. His mountain stood guard against raiders from the sea, as well as pirates and slavers. This threat, too, came from the sea, but they had landed further south, in the direction that the Stormrats had landed five seasons ago. If the leader of the horde wanted to, he could lead the army east instead of toward Salamandastron. But Lord Rocketh was confident that the leader of the vermin would head to Salamandastron, since much of the war was fought there. It was what he would have done if he were as vengeful as the Stormrat leading the horde was likely to be. But there was always the chance that he was wrong, as Merlin had reminded him. So he had sent out a patrol under Sergeant Polwyn. Their orders were to harass the vermin horde, but their real purpose was to inform Rocketh if the horde did anything that he didn't expect.  
  
After a few minutes of staring out at the sea, Lord Rocketh turned around and walked toward the door to his quarters. He went downward, this time, with a destination in mind. He was going to talk to Colonel Jeffrey.  
  
Lord Rocketh found the colonel in the dining hall. Some hares bustled about, but they were paying no attention to Jeffrey and gave the Badger Lord only a passing glance. Jeffrey was sitting at one of the long tables, staring forlornly ahead of him. He heard Lord Rocketh coming long before the badger reached him, but Jeffrey only looked up when Rocketh stood right beside him.  
  
"Hello, sire," said Jeffrey when Rocketh got close to him. The hare didn't look at Rocketh, but he was definitely aware of the badger's presence. "I'm sorry for not being more social, but I'm worried about Sergeant Polwyn and his troops. Wot can two score hares do against a horde led by a Stormrat? The entirety of the Long Patrol almost lost against those vermin five seasons ago, so wot can Polwyn do?"  
  
"Polwyn can keep track of the vermin and make sure they don't go anywhere but Salamandastron. If they do, we must be ready to march. But that isn't why I'm here." Lord Rocketh moved to stand at Colonel Jeffrey's side. "You fought in the Stormrat War. What can you tell me about the way those beasts think? I've never fought a Stormrat before, and I'd like to know what to expect." In truth, Lord Rocketh had only fought once in his seasons as Badger Lord of Salamandastron, and that was against a small group of searats that had made the mistake of landing near Salamandastron. But he didn't want Colonel Jeffrey to recall his inexperience. It would be bad enough to serve under a Badger Lord not nearly as experienced as the one he'd served before he was killed in combat. He didn't want to remind Jeffrey of how unfortunate it was that Rocketh was the Lord of Salamandastron.  
  
"The Stormrats had disciplined their horde better than any other vermin warlord that I've heard of," began Jeffrey. "In fact, I think that they were the equals of the Long Patrol in terms of discipline. I hope that this horde is different. There's the chance that it will be, since the Stormrats were defeated in Mossflower, and vermin would be less likely to pledge their allegiance to a beast who had lost a war before. But there's always the chance that this Stormrat would be able to discipline his horde as well as the horde that fought in the Stormrat war. It's best to assume the worst, so we can prepare for it and not be caught by surprise.  
  
"But the Stormrats were as cunnin' as any other vermin. Their strategies were treacherous, and could be credited to the mind of any vermin leader of seasons past. I think that if Lord Sunforge hadn't died in battle, he would've met his end some other way thanks to the vermin. Even so, I don't think their horde was prone to infightin' or discontent. Even when they were caught between two armies of goodbeasts in Mossflower, they stood their ground until a retreat was ordered. I don't think any other army that the Long Patrol has ever faced was quite as dangerous as them."  
  
Lord Rocketh shook his head grimly. "Redwall had better come to our aid. Without them, we won't stand a chance against the Stormrats."  
  
Jeffrey nodded. "That's wot I was thinkin', sah. But I don't think the Redwallers will be likely t' refuse. They've got beasts who fought in the Stormrat War, and they, at least, 'd remember wot it was like to battle against them. So unless our friends in Redwall have forgotten wot it's like to be at war with Stormrats, I don't think we'll be wantin' for assistance."  
  
Rocketh stood in silence beside Colonel Jeffrey for a time. The colonel stood to leave, but Rocketh reached out a paw to stop him. "Colonel, why do you and the other hares follow me?" asked Rocketh quietly after making sure that none of the other hares were within hearing range. "I might be a Badger Lord, but I'm inexperienced, and I can't even compare to Lord Sunforge. Why do you stay here?"  
  
Jeffrey turned around and looked at Lord Rocketh in surprise. "You're the mountain's Badger Lord. Like it or not, it's the Long Patrol's duty to obey you, and I don't think there's a hare among us that minds. You may be inexperienced, but you're the Badger Lord. Lord Sunforge was a great beast, but he didn't start out that way. I wasn't there when he started to rule Salamandastron, but I imagine he started out just like you did."  
  
Lord Rocketh shook his head. "I can't even make a decent weapon," he said, sighing. "When the horde finally comes to Salamandastron, I'll be using a weapon that Lord Sunforge made for me, not one that I forged with my own paws. At best, I'm a beginner at forging weapons. Compared to every other badger that ruled this mountain, I'm a failure."  
  
Colonel Jeffrey clasped Lord Rocketh's shoulder with his paw. "You'll get better as you go along, wot? You can't expect to be an expert weaponsmith right when you start. Some of the Badger Lords have been, I'm sure, but if they were, they prolly had some sort o' unnatural gift for it. If you don't, you'll have to make do with wot skills you do have." The colonel stood and left, leaving Lord Rocketh to his thoughts.  
  
The Badger Lord departed soon afterward, the words of the colonel playing through his mind. You'll have to make do with wot skills you do have. "The sword is mine then," he said to himself. "At least, it is until I forge one of my own." He walked on, slightly more confident that he belonged in the mountain of the Badger Lords. "Maybe someday I will earn a position in history." 


	6. Chapter Six

That night, Gormin and Jacob sat in Redwall's gatehouse. Luc, Ellen, Kiran, and Retherin sat in wooden chairs, snoring. The lanceroot potion that Cain had made up had kept them asleep so far, and the mouse had given Jacob instructions to dose the younger beasts with a quarter of a cup of the concoction whenever they showed signs of coming close to waking up. He was to do this until a day or two after the Abbey's defenders departed. By then, it would be too late for them to turn back, especially once they'd promised Candice that they would help Lord Rocketh.  
  
The two older squirrels were conversing in low voices, so as not to wake the younger beasts. Each of them sipped at a cup of tea. The tea in those cups was undrugged, of course. They had stayed there for the entire night so far, talking about how they felt about the upcoming war. Cain had stayed with them in the beginning, but he soon grew distant and left. Jacob was pretty sure that he hadn't gone to sleep, since the mouse had a reputation of climbing onto the walltops at night and staring out at Mossflower Country.  
  
If the recorder had to guess, he would say that Cain was remembering his dead wife, Kelly. The two mice had been close, and Kelly's death had broke Cain's heart. Compared to how he was before the Stormrat War, the mouse seemed almost emotionless. Only his son, Andrew, was able to get him to show any sign of happiness, and if it weren't for him, Cain would probably have taken his own life long ago. His loyalty to his son seemed to be all that kept Cain alive.  
  
There were plenty of beasts at Redwall who would be willing to befriend Cain, but they didn't think the mouse would let them get close. Cain had been well loved by most of Redwall before the Stormrat War, and he had many friends. After his marriage to Kelly, he began to focus on a new wife with his bride rather than the other beasts he knew. That was fine with Cain's friends, since they, too, were getting married and drifting away from each other.  
  
But it was losing Kelly in the Stormrat War that caused Cain to distance himself from the rest of Redwall. Even though the other beasts at the Abbey were concerned about him, Cain turned his back on them and lived miserably for the first season. He lived for his son Andrew, but stayed away from the rest of the Abbey. After that first season, though, he gradually began to associate with the other Redwallers again. But he didn't return to the way he was before the war. Nobody really expected him to. Losing a loved one did that to a beast.  
  
"I'm still not sure if we did the right thing," said Jacob quietly, breaking the silence that had taken over the cottage in the past few minutes. "We're covering up the murder of those otters for a noble cause, but just think what we'll do to their families. Is it worth it? Sure, this war is just, and Mossflower may be overrun without our help. But... do you really think that saving Mossflower is worth breaking the hearts of two families?"  
  
"Yes, I do," answered Gormin, as quietly as Jacob. "I'm not sure if you see how dangerous this horde is. Even with our help, the Long Patrol may end up losing. Without us, they surely will fall. And Lord Rocketh is certain that there is a Stormrat in charge of this horde. You didn't fight in the last war, but you saw us afterward. It was horrifying, how well the Stormrats led their horde. We can't let a menace like that go unopposed, even if it does mean hurting a few families."  
  
"A few families, Gormin? You sound as if you don't care about their grief. The Stormrats may be a life-threatening danger, but do we really have the right to hold back the deaths of the otters from their parents?" Jacob gripped his cup, but not drink the tea in it. "You told me to trust you when you asked me to drug these youngbeasts, but I'm not sure if what you're doing is right. Would Martin do it? Even if Mossflower was at stake, I doubt he'd cover up a murder in order to rally support for war."  
  
"Martin wouldn't need to." Even though Gormin's voice was quiet, there was something in his tone that made Jacob want to shy away from the squirrel. "He would have the entire Abbey behind him, no matter what was lurking out in Mossflower. I'm not like that, though. Redwallers don't think nearly as well of me as they do of Martin."  
  
Jacob didn't know what to say to that. Gormin had always been a bit bitter, but he had assumed that it was because his parents abandoned him for dead in Mossflower Wood. That was before he found his way to Redwall Abbey, and when he had found it, he stayed distant from everyone within the place. Except for Jacob, who Gormin seemed to take a liking to after they first met. Cain was a good companion, too, but he was too wrapped up in Kelly even when he was young to take much interest in Gormin.  
  
"We don't have Martin, now," answered Jacob, picking his words carefully. "We have you. We need your judgement, even if we don't like what you ask of us. So I'll trust you when it comes to the matter of war, and keeping these beasts cooped up in the gatehouse until the warriors leave Redwall. Just as long as you're sure this is the best way to do things, and the hurt that you're causing can't be avoided."  
  
"I can't be sure of that, Jacob," said Gormin. "There is probably a better answer, but there was no time to think of it when we saw the youngbeasts at the gate. We can't turn back now, since we've already kept this from the Abbey and declared war on the Stormrats. I'm not sure if this is the best way to fight the Stormrats, but I now that Cain and I have already done what we felt we had to, there is nothing we can do except go along with it."  
  
Jacob nodded, and sighed. "To tell you the truth, I can't think of anything more effective than what you and Cain did. But I still think that it was wrong." The recorder lifted his cup to his mouth and sipped at his tea. "Did Redwall's founders have to make decisions like this? If they did, I don't envy them their fame."  
  
The two squirrels sat in silence for a time, sipping at their tea. Gormin had a thoughtful expression on his face, and he had stopped paying attention to goings-on within the gatehouse. Jacob was trying to keep his mind on the upcoming war, but his mind kept drifting to the Abbey records that he had intended to sort. The curse of being a recorder, Jacob thought in discuss. Beasts are going to fight for their lives, and all you can think about is organizing records.  
  
Redwall's histories had been disorganized for as long as Jacob could remember. If anybeast had made an effort to catalogue them, they had gone unappreciated and their work had been undone. Scrolls, books, and journals were scattered around the gatehouse, and it took Jacob hours to find any scrap of writing from a particular time period. Recently, he had begun to organize the records by date. Several small, organized stacks of papers, journals, and books sat in one corner, standing apart from the other clutter that seemed to fill the gatehouse. Jacob had picked out those paper and put them in piles according to when they had been written, and he planned to catalogue papers, books, and journals separately and by date. He would've made more progress today if it hadn't been for the murder of the young otters and counting the ballots for the war vote.  
  
Even if Gormin was wrong about hiding the otters' murder, he was right about what would happen if he hadn't. The vote had been a close thing, and aside from himself and Abbess Elm, nobeast knew just how close. A dozen votes had been the difference between going to war and staying out of the conflict. And who knew which way those twelve beasts would have voted if they knew what had transpired in Mossflower that day? If the Abbess hadn't sworn him to keep the nearness of the ballot a secret from the rest of the Abbey, he would have readily assured Gormin that he and Cain had made the difference in the vote to go to war. That still doesn't make it right, Jacob said to himself. His heart did its best to ignore that thought.  
  
After a few more minutes of silence, a stirring from the direction of the sleeping beasts caught Jacob's ears. He reached out to tap Gormin's paw, and when his companion looked up, he gestured over to the youngbeasts, who were slowly stirring into wakefulness. "Get four cups and Cain's potion," said Jacob quietly. Gormin nodded and got the four cups and potion.  
  
Jacob poured tea into each of the three cups, and then put half a cupful of the potion into each of them. "This should keep them out for awhile," he muttered as he prepared the drink. By the time he had finished making tea for each of the four youngbeasts, Kiran and Luc were already awake and shaking their heads dazedly. Ellen and Retherin were still asleep, but according to Cain, they would be waking up soon, as well.  
  
"It's my fault," muttered Luc as he shook his head and opened his eyes. He looked confused, and more than a bit dazed. Kiran looked the same, but the otter was coming around more quickly than the squirrel was.  
  
"Here, drink this," said Jacob, pressing a cup of tea into the otter's paw. Kiran looked up at the recorder in confusion, but did as he was told and drunk the tea. "You too," Jacob said, giving another cup to Luc. The young squirrel swallowed his cup unquestioningly. Within a few minutes, Cain's lanceroot potion had lulled Luc and Kiran back into a peaceful sleep.  
  
"That was close," said Gormin. "The other two will be waking up soon, right?"  
  
Jacob nodded. "I'll be on paw to give them these other two cups. I feel guilty about drugging beasts so young, but as you said, it must be done. You can go if you want. I think you'll be leaving tomorrow, and you'll need all the sleep you can get."  
  
Gormin nodded, and walked out of the gatehouse. Jacob stayed behind, choosing to remain on paw to make sure the beasts who knew of the otters' murder would stay drugged and unable to interfere with the departing warriors. The things I do for you, Gormin. But when Jacob thought about it, he realized that he was doing this deed for the good of Mossflower.  
  
~~~  
  
Cain watched from the walltops as Gormin left the gatehouse. I wonder what he and Jacob were doing in there after I left, he mused. Tending to the sleeping beasts, or organizing records? Knowing Jacob and Gormin, they were probably still discussing the way we deceived the rest of the Abbey. In truth, Cain didn't know Jacob or Gormin that well, but their personalities were so obvious to him that he was able to guess that their conversation had remained the same after he left. We probably shouldn't have dragged Jacob into this, he thought. He isn't a warrior, and this sort of deception will strain his good heart.  
  
Well, it was too late to be thinking about what had already been done. Cain would have to plan for the future. If all went well, the Abbey warriors would depart the next day, heading toward Salamandastron so they could fight off the vermin horde. I'll be fighting this war right from the beginning, he thought. I won't be away gathering reinforcements. But when he thought about it, Cain couldn't decide whether this was a good or bad thing.  
  
Maybe I'm getting to old to fight wars, he thought. Kelly always told me that when our desire for combat passed, we would settle down peacefully with Andrew here at Redwall and pass our weapons down to a younger generation. I didn't think I'd ever lose my desire to fight, but there's something about a lifetime of peace that seems appealing to me. He would have gladly settled down against the Stormrat War, if Kelly had still been alive to share the peace with. But she had died, and there had been no reason for Cain to give up his sword.  
  
In truth, Cain still wanted to keep his weapon close by his side and remain a warrior of Redwall. If Kelly were alive, things might have been different, but there would be know way to know. If only Cain had been able to save her...  
  
But it had been impossible for him. He had been with Log-a-log, chasing after the fleeing vermin in the front of the group of Guosim and woodlanders. The Redwallers and Long Patrol had stayed behind at the battle site, treating their wounded and taking captive those vermin who were too injured to retreat with the rest of the horde. A few of the beasts from that group - Gormin, Skipper, some of the less exhausted Redwallers, and almost half the remaining Long Patrol hares - had accompanied the Guosim and the woodlanders in pursuing the Stormrats. Kelly had been running near the back of the group, and the beasts in front were the ones who slew the fleeing vermin. It was a shrew rapier that brought down one of the Stormrats, and the rest of the woodlanders ran past the dead Stormrat without more than a glance. But the beast wasn't dead, and it managed to slay Kelly.  
  
At least that rat was killed, thought Gormin, clenching his paw into a fist. I don't think I could live with myself if the murderer of my love went unpunished. Other Stormrats had fallen to the woodlanders, too, including what seemed to be all of the Stormrats. By the time the vermin reached their ship, they were half dead from the exhaustion of running, and it had seemed safe to bet on the death of all the Stormrats.  
  
No, it really wasn't a certain thing. After a night and morning's worth of running, most of the vermin and woodlanders had been ready to drop down on the ground and take a rest. Only the toughest vermin were able to make it to the ships they had anchored on the shore south of Salamandastron, and they had to rely on the meager group of beasts they had left with the ship to guard it and feed the oarslaves to take charge and captain the ship. It had seemed to the woodlanders that if any Stormrat had been alive yet, he or she would have taken fate into its own paws and directed the retreat itself. But there was no Stormrat present on deck when the vermin fled, and it was assumed that all of them had been slain.  
  
There might have been a Stormrat too exhausted to stand on deck, especially after all that running. Even though many of the vermin had slowed and fallen into the clutches of the pursuing woodlanders, those that had managed to escape stayed far ahead of the pursuing beasts. There was no way to tell whether or not a Stormrat fled up front with the other vermin. But it seemed there had been. If not, where else would this Stormrat that presently threatened Salamandastron have come from?  
  
Cain paced the walltops, still caught in his bitter reminisces. The worst part of the Stormrat War, he had decided after it had all ended, was finding Kelly with a blade through her heart. Kelly had been the beast he lived for. Ever since a few seasons past dibbunhood, Cain had adored Kelly. As they grew older, Cain fell passionately in love with her, and his joy when he found out Kelly had similar feelings toward him was unimaginable for anybeast but himself. His entire life seemed to have revolved around Kelly. Through good times and through bad times, she had always been there for him, and he for her. They held each other when they cried, and they were with each other in times of joy. Beholding the image of her lifeless body was enough to make Cain wish for death.  
  
He had often heard his fellow Redwallers whisper that if it hadn't been for Andrew, Cain would have committed suicide. The truth was that even with his son's love, Cain had still been tempted to end his life. Many nights, Cain had stood atop this very wall, sometimes considering throwing himself from its top and sometimes considering other ways of ending his misery. But it was not Andrew that convinced him to live. It was the idea of what Kelly would think of him for abandoning his son to relieve his own pain. Cain only lived because Kelly would have wanted him to.  
  
It was this realization that had brought him back to the world. He still grieved for Kelly; not a day went by in which he wasn't tormented by thoughts of her death. On good days, he was able to recall what his wife was like when she was still alive. Those memories still brought tears to his eyes, but they were, for the most part, happy tears. Even the thought that he'd never experience those happy feelings again while he lived weren't enough to erase from Cain's mind the fact that he had once been happy.  
  
She's waiting for me in Dark Forest, though Cain suddenly, stopping and looking down at the ground below him. Andrew is old enough to take care of himself now. If I were to jump, he wouldn't be affected to horribly by my death.  
  
But what if Cain didn't die? What if he merely broke his body, and was forced to live the rest of his already miserable life as a cripple? The beasts at Redwall would be too optimistic to slit his throat out of mercy. They would force him to live, however miserable he was. Andrew might be able to kill his father out of mercy, but what would the Redwallers do to him? No, it was best for Cain to stay alive. After all, he might find a way to make a difference in the upcoming war.  
  
Cain resumed his pacing and let other thoughts enter his mind. It was hard for him to think about anything but Kelly, but if he tried, he could. Luc is Colin's son, he thought suddenly. The squirrel had probably already heard the tale that Cain had come up with about Luc and Ellen going off in pursuit of Andrew. My lie won't hurt Colin, he thought fiercely. He'll come home after the war and learn from the rest of the Abbey that I lied, but he won't be hurt by it.  
  
Out of all the beasts at Redwall, Colin was the only beast who really understood Cain. Even though the squirrel hadn't lost any family of his own other than his parents, who had passed away several seasons ago, it was as if he naturally understood the feelings of anybeast. Cain wouldn't go so far as to call Colin a friend, but he was more understanding than anybeast else in Redwall. Even Andrew. Cain felt as if he owed Colin something, and the idea that he was lying to Colin almost made him reconsider the decision that had been made.  
  
No, it was too late now. Cain had already made his choice, and while it may not have been the best decision he could have made, it was the most obvious thing to do at the time, and he was going to have to stick with it. Redwall was going to war, and there was no way Cain was willing to do anything that would stop that. Even if it meant concealing what had happened to the otters from the Abbey, and what role Luc had played in it from Colin. The pain of a few is worth the lives of many, though Cain, trying to convince himself that the choice he had made was the right one.  
  
But a small voice at the back of Cain's mind was trying to convince him otherwise. What if it was Kelly who was in pain? it said, gnawing away at his confidence. Would it still be worth it then?  
  
Of course it wouldn't, thought Cain, trying to brush the voice out of his mind. I loved her. Nothing was worth more to me than her happiness.  
  
Aren't the beasts that'll be hurt by this loved as much by somebeast as Kelly was by you?  
  
Cain clenched his paw into a fist, and fought to drive the doubts out of his mind. What I did is done. Redwall will fight, and if somebeasts are hurt, I'll gladly accept exile if I know my son is safe. But even though Cain tried to deny it, deceit was not the best way to go about rallying an army. If only we had someone who could rally us together, thought Cain. Someone like Martin. The Abbeybeasts would follow him to the end of the lands if he asked it of them. But we don't have that kind of leader now.  
  
Gormin tried to rally the Redwallers to one cause, but there was nothing that the squirrel was able to do that would convince the beasts within Redwall to rally together. He had tried before, but the Abbey never agreed to what the Champion asked without a struggle. Some were content to trust in Gormin's wisdom, but others challenged him at every turn, and did not give him the respect his position as Champion deserved. Cain felt that it was beyond Gormin's power to lead these beasts, and suspected that the squirrel felt similarly. Martin would have had their respect, thought Cain. It would've been much easier to convince these beasts to go to war if Martin were the one who was asking them. But Gormin isn't Martin, and neither is anybeast else.  
  
His thoughts turned to Martin's tapestry, which hung in Great Hall. Is Martin really with us? he wondered. Five seasons ago, before they had left for the Stormrat War, Cain and Kelly had gone down to see the tapestry and ask the spirit of Martin for luck. The mouse seemed to have spoken to them from beyond the gates of Dark Forest, and had told them to go find Log-a- log and rally the woodlanders in Mossflower. It had taken them time, but in the end, they were able to track down the Guosim and rally an army from the beasts living in Mossflower. And that was what had turned back the Stormrats. Without Martin's advice, they wouldn't have been able to do it.  
  
But was it really Martin, or just an idea that had occurred to both him and his wife? Sure, they had thought of it at the same time, and standing in front of Martin's tapestry. But that didn't mean that the mouse had spoken to them. But he could have. Martin the Warrior had supposedly taken a paw in the lives of Redwallers before, so why couldn't he have done it five seasons ago?  
  
Cain yawned. While he was pacing, he had been overcome by an urge to go to his dormitory and sleep. The mouse was happy to go to sleep, since his mind seemed to be telling him that it was time to get some rest. After all, the defenders of Redwall were probably going to depart the next day. If he was going to march to Salamandastron and fight in a war, Cain would need all the strength he could get. 


	7. Chapter Seven

The hares that had departed Salamandastron with Sergeant Polwyn had been marching though the entire night. Thankfully, the weather this night was fair, and the Long Patrollers were able to travel much more efficiently than they would have the night before. Merlin even ran ahead of the rest of the hares to scope out the terrain. It was an exertion for him, but nothing more than was expected of him as a hare of the Long Patrol.  
  
Merlin had just returned from one of these scouting runs. The fourscore hares that were marching south along the coastline moved faster than most beasts, but they were still not as efficient as one runner. A Long Patrol runner was able to travel vast distances in less time than it would take a normal beast. Merlin was used to this; even though he was a newer recruit to the Long Patrol, he had been trained well. The muscles in the hare's legs were becoming sore, but it was a mere inconvenience to him.  
  
"No sign of the vermin, yet?" asked Sergeant Polwyn, marching at the head of the column. He and the hares preceding him were moving at a brisk pace, keeping their weapons close at paw.  
  
"'s all clear so far, sah," answered Merlin, jogging alongside the sergeant. "Y' said that y' don't expect them t' have traveled very far since when they ambushed you, so why are you sendin' me ahead to check?"  
  
"Better safe than sorry, wot wot!" answered the Sergeant, speeding up slightly to keep pace with Merlin. Sergeant Polwyn had trained as a runner in his younger days, and was still able to keep pace with Merlin. If he wanted to, he tail the runner and give him advice as he scouted ahead. He was very tempted to, in fact, and would've if he didn't remember how he had felt about being coddled when he was new to the Patrol. "And those Stormrats are unpredictable. Y' never know what one of the dirty beast is goin' to pull on you."  
  
"I understand," said Merlin. Polwyn had heard that response from plenty of new recruits before, but Merlin was one of the only ones who he believed actually understood the orders he gave. "I'll get back to scoutin' ahead, then?" At Polwyn's nod, Merlin sprang ahead, turning his lazy jog into a sprint. Very soon, the young runner had put Polwyn's hares a good distance behind him.  
  
Merlin kept his mind focused on the terrain ahead of him, and kept a paw close to the dirk at his belt. Sergeant Polwyn's warning about the unpredictable nature of the Stormrats had given him extra motivation to stay on guard, though he would have kept alert even without the older hare's warning. Merlin had been on patrol before, and he had kept a weapon close at paw in case he ran into trouble. He hadn't before, but the few times he had patrolled had been before this vermin horde south of Salamandastron had landed. Back then, a Long Patrol hare rarely ran into trouble, and if the hare did, it usually came in the form of a ragtag group of vermin.  
  
But now, a horde larger than the Long Patrol that was supposedly led by a Stormrat advanced north along the coast. If there had ever been a time for Long Patroller to be wary when they moved south, it was now. Merlin's danger was greater, since he was heading directly toward the horde, and was trying to find it. Even with the reflexes of a Long Patroller and the sense to run if he encountered trouble, Merlin was still seriously threatened by the presence of such a horde.  
  
Merlin ran, and he recognized areas that he had scouted out on his previous run. The hare had no idea when to expect an encounter with the vermin, but he was fairly certain that areas he had already traversed were safe. But he still kept his guard up, and became even more cautious when he stopped recognizing landmarks.  
  
The hare subconsciously slowed his run as he went further south. A sense of foreboding had arisen within him, and he became hesitant in his ventures south. He couldn't see far ahead of him in the night, but somehow he was able to sense that trouble was just a bit further south.  
  
Only a few more minutes passed before the sound of chattering and footsteps reached Merlin's ears. When he strained his eyes, the hare could see light from a few torches and an outline of somebeasts marching a bit off. Merlin knew that his best option would be to sprint back to the rest of the Long Patrol, but a touch of youthful recklessness overcame his good sense and wariness of the horde. His legs shook a little as he considered what would happen to him if he was caught, but Merlin's strong will overcame those thoughts. I'm a Long Patrol hare, he thought. No flippin' vermin will lay its paws on me.  
  
As the beasts ahead of him drew closer, Merlin could make out their accented voices and could sometimes pick out words from beast to beast conversation. He could also see the faces of a few vermin when they drew close enough. Torchlight illuminated their features, and the Long Patroller could faintly make out weasels, searats, and other vermin marching in front. But he didn't sight any of the legendary Stormrats, supposedly bigger than any other rat and with the fierceness of a badger. That doesn't mean there aren't any in this horde, Merlin thought, clutching at his dirk.  
  
It was only when the vermin began to draw uncomfortably close to Merlin that he got the idea to run. The hare quickly slipped away from the torches, and scurried stealthily away so the vermin wouldn't see him. He doubted that they were paying enough attention to the coast ahead of them to notice one retreating hare, but it was better to move cautiously than to be caught. When Merlin judged himself far enough away from the vermin that he wouldn't be noticed if he moved rapidly, he started to sprint back in the direction he came.  
  
Aside from the urgent desire to get back to the other hares and report what he had seen and a powerful excitement at having witnessed the vermin horde. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, and in what seemed like no time at all he came to the rest of the Long Patrol hares. He slowed down before he arrived, but when he finally approached Sergeant Polwyn his legs were somewhat shaky and his body was ready to spring from his excitement.  
  
Sergeant Polwyn was able to gather much of what had happened from the expression on Merlin's face. "You saw them?" he asked grimly. Merlin nodded, and Polwyn turned around and signaled the rest of the Long Patrol. "Stop now. We'll wait in ambush here for the Stormrats, and harass 'em as best we can when they arrive. The sun is already risin', so we can't expect to be able to wait for the vermin out in the open. We're goin' to have to draw away from the sea and go further east so we won't be seen."  
  
By the time the Long Patrol hares had gone east and concealed themselves in the meager camouflage the land offered, but sun was beginning to cast its rays across the land and begin a new day. A few hares were positioned further south, so they could inform the others when the vermin horde began to draw near. Merlin had volunteered for the job, but Polwyn had replied that Merlin would be needed to run back to Salamandastron if things went awry and couldn't be put into a potentially dangerous position. Merlin had reluctantly accepted the sergeant's words, though he suspected that Polwyn didn't want to rely on a hare that had never seen actual battle to keep watch for his hares.  
  
Only about an hour passed before Alden, the hare Sergeant Polwyn had assigned to keep a watch to the south for the Stormrats, came sprinting toward the boulder that Polwyn had concealed himself behind. "They're comin' north right now," said the hare, gripping his saber and crouching down beside Sergeant Polwyn.  
  
The vermin horde soon came into the vision of Merlin. Now that the sun shone in the sky, it was even more impressive than when he had seen the front of the horde at night. "We're goin' to attack that thing?" he said incredulously to nobeast in particular. His fellow hares seemed to grasp the nature of his question, and didn't bother responding to Merlin's statement. They were too concentrated on the vermin horde, and waiting for Sergeant Polwyn's order to attack.  
  
His order came when the vermin horde had almost marched past the majority of the Long Patrol hares. "Now!" he said in a loud enough voice to be heard by all his hares and attract a few glances from the vermin. Whatever the few that looked in the direction of the Long Patrollers expected to see, it was not the sight of twoscore hares springing up from behind rocks and pieces of driftwood. Their mouths were left hanging open as hares sprung up seemingly out of nowhere, bearing dirks, sabers, throwing knives, longbows, and other weapons. Before they could open their mouths to raise the alarms, the longbow-bearing hares unleashed a hail of arrows. Some of the archers did not hit the targets they had been aiming for, and a few did not come close to the appropriate distance. But those arrows that did hit struck down their targets.  
  
It did not take long for the vermin horde to respond. Those beasts with blades and other paw-to-paw weapons charged toward the hares, while the vermin with weapons that could attack from a distance loaded their weapons and moved only close enough to shoot. The hares got another chance to release a volley of arrows at the approaching vermin, and several more fell to their archery.  
  
Merlin drew his dirk and stepped to the side of an older Long Patroller. The hare beside Merlin managed to impale a searat on his pike before they drew close. He threw his pike handle aside and drew out his rapier when other vermin began to approach.  
  
But before the vermin could draw close, Sergeant Polwyn's voice rose above the clamor of battle. "Retreat! Draw back, and fight another day!" Merlin was happy to follow orders, abandoning the ferret he was currently fighting and stepping quickly away from the scene of battle. Other hares did the same, and as they drew back, Merlin was pleased to see that the carcasses of many vermin littered the ground. None of the Long Patrollers were dead, though, and Merlin thanked whatever spirits were watching over the hares for that. There was no time to think those thoughts now, though. Merlin turned and fled with the rest of the Long Patrollers.  
  
The vermin archers had been motionless for the duration of this short skirmish. Now, however, they unleashed barbed arrows at the retreating Long Patrollers. Their weapons did not have the range of the Long Patrol longbows, but the vermin archers had managed to draw in close and released a flurry of arrows at the hares from a decent distance. Four of Merlin's comrades fell, but he managed to escape with more Patrollers. It took him almost half a minute to notice the arrow sticking out of one of his fellow soldiers, who suddenly stopped in his tracks and fell to the ground. He would have stopped and looked closely at the arrow that had struck the Patroller down, but he was afraid that if he diverted his attention from the task of running forward he would be slain.  
  
"Spread out! They won't be able t' hit us with their arrows as well if we aren't in a flippin' group!" yelled one of the hares. The others were quick to take her advice, and split into groups of twos and threes, with some hares proceeding on their own. The arrows of the archers would have been far less accurate if they continued to shoot, but none of them had bothered to join in the pursuit of the fleeing hares. The beasts that did not have bows or other far-ranged weapons faltered, and then stopped their pursuit. They turned back reluctantly, but none of the hares stopped running.  
  
When the remaining Long Patrollers finally managed to gather, Sergeant Polwyn was making encouraging gestures to his hares. "We lost some good hares, but we got a couple of their vermin, too. We need to keep up this sort o' harassment and keep 'em away from Salamandastron."  
  
Merlin was about to lend his words of comfort and reassurance to the Patrollers as Sergeant Polwyn was when a hare let out a gasp. Merlin turned to gaze at what the hare had seen, and was struck dumb with awe.  
  
So that's what a Stormrat looks like, he thought, gazing at the beast that had come from the front of the vermin horde. A rat, twice as big as a normal searat and as muscled as Lord Rocketh, stood gazing at the Long Patrol hares. Light from the sun made its skin appear almost golden, and even from this distance there was something unsettling about the Stormrat's eyes. The vermin grinned, and fangs big enough to puncture the skin of a beast were exposed to the morning light. Merlin took an involuntary step back, and glanced at Sergeant Polwyn.  
  
His face seemed surprised, and it seemed that he was only keeping calm though an iron grip on his emotions. "I don't remember 'im being this big," he whispered, almost inaudibly.  
  
The he regained control of himself. "Merlin, go to Salamandastron and tell Lord Rocketh of what happened here. I'll stay here and try to keep these vermin busy. And I swear that I won't lose any more lives than I have to. I was stupid to let the vermin draw so close anyway." Polwyn stopped scolding himself only when he noticed that Merlin was standing there, watching him. "What are you waiting for? Go! Lord Rocketh needs to know what happened."  
  
Merlin went.  
  
~~~  
  
Danni watched the Stormrat as he stood out glaring at the Long Patrollers. Meist was a fierce beast, even for a Stormrat, and his figure was probably enough to make the most courageous hare nervous. The vixen imagined that woodlanders with less backbone with them would quiver in fear when they beheld Meist's hulking figure. The soldiers say that he's as strong as a badger, she thought. And looking at Meist's glorious figure, she didn't doubt it. That one isn't much for cleverness, though, she thought. Well, I guess that's why there are smarter beasts than he leading this horde.  
  
A snigger came from beside Danni. The vixen turned her gaze upon a searat named Christopher, who was watching Meist with a kind of vicious glee. "Look at the way them hares 're backin' away from 'im. That Meist is quite a monster. Makes ye wonder if the Stormbringer di'n't get 'im from Dark Forest. He-haw!" Danni suppressed a shudder. Christopher's hideous laugh was one of the many things that made him so repulsive to her.  
  
"Run away now, little hares!" boomed Meist. His voice carried all the way out to the gathered hares, apparently, and it didn't lose any of its magnificence. One of the hares cringed when it heard the voice of the Stormrat, and the one who was apparently the leader seemed to be trying very hard to hide his awe. Danni almost laughed, but she was more disciplined than that.  
  
Several hares looked like they did want to run, but the one in charge raised a paw to halt them. Though Danni could not hear what he said from this distance, it seemed to bring the hares back in line. The Long Patrol leader then turned, raised his fist to Meist, and shook his head vehemently.  
  
Meist gave a low growl, but didn't move forward. Instead, he turned around and stalked back through the vermin. Searat, stoat, weasel, and other vermin parted so he could pass unhindered. Meist was doubtlessly going to Jenny, the searat that he had taken as his mate. Jenny was the only beast that could offer Meist any sort of consolation, and was one of the two beasts who could control him. The other one of course, was the Stormbringer, the true mind behind the horde.  
  
Danni was about to turn her gaze away from the Long Patrol hares, but something in the distance caught her eye. It was faint, and soon after she saw it, her eyes lost sight of it. But she knew the reputation hares had for camouflage, and guessed that it was one of the Long Patrol's infamous running hares. So whatever demon rules Salamandastron will know we're here, she thought. But whoever that is won't be the only demon on the battlefield. We've got Meist.  
  
"They ain't gonna be the only beasts who 'ave a terror roamin' the battlefield in this war," said Christopher. "He-haw! They might 'ave their Badger Lord, but we 'ave Meist. An' I don' think that the Stormbringer is goin' to stop until all o' Mossflower is his. He- haw! He-haw!"  
  
This time Danni could not stop from shuddering at Christopher's laugh. The searat noticed, and stuck his face in front of hers. "Ye laughin' at me, ye vixen? I'm not one t' put up with that kind o' abuse. What's t' stop me from slittin' yer gizzard right now?'  
  
"If you were to kill the Stormbringer's mate, I don't think you'd live to see another day," said Danni calmly, glaring at the searat.  
  
"So ye're hidin' behind the Stormbringer?" asked Christopher, throwing his head back and giving another hideous laugh. "He-haw! He-haw! Ye're a coward. All of ye foxes are cowards without any backbone. Ye have to let other, better beasts do yer fightin' fer ye. I got no respect fer beasts like you."  
  
Christopher was about to laugh again, but Danni's paw swung upward to his neck. His eyes widened when he felt the blade of her dagger press against his throat. "Say that you're sorry," said Danni, her voice dangerously low.  
  
"I'm sorry, Danni!" the searat exclaimed. "Please jes' lemme go, an' I won't do anythin' like this again, I promise ye!"  
  
"Apology accepted, Christopher," said Danni. She drew the dagger away and left the searat blubbering on the ground. "Disgusting," she muttered, turning away and walking though the horde.  
  
It only took her a few minutes of searching to find Laskit. He was one of the few beasts that were given the duty of advising the Stormbringer. Danni, too, was one of the Stormbringer's advisors. He had found her in the far south three seasons ago, when he was gathering an army from regions far away from Mossflower. She had proved to be a valuable asset to him, and he eventually gave her a position close to him. She had gotten even closer to him when he fell in love with her, and she found herself feeling emotions that she hadn't ever before.  
  
Danni shook these thoughts from her head and turned her attention to Laskit. The searat had been with the Stormbringer since he had set out on this quest to gather an army. He was an excellent tactician, better than the Stormrats had ever had. There were other beasts whom the Stormbringer trusted as well. There was Mark, a ferret assassin, Ryslia, an eagle with a shattered wing, and Mokkin, a weasel and one of the horde's best runners. Out of all the beasts that had flocked to the Stormbringer when he gathered his horde, they were the ones he trusted the most.  
  
Meist was not one of the beasts that the Stormbringer trusted. Despite the fact that he was the most dangerous beast in the horde, possibly excepting the Stormbringer himself, the warlord did not place his trust on the shoulders of the fearsome beast. His reasoning was sensible, though Meist fretted at not being allowed to know what the Stormbringer was planning. The beast's complaints made some of the Stormbringer's advisors nervous, but the warlord assured them that Meist was no threat to any of them.  
  
He probably wasn't. As the Stormbringer had pointed out numerous times when his advisors raised their complaints, Meist, although he was a Stormrat, was too stupid to be of any real threat to them. His strength could carry him far, but the Stormbringer claimed that he could best Meist in single combat if he ever needed to. Most of the beasts in the Stormbringer's horde would consider that an idle boast, since they witnessed Meist's muscle every day they marched. But back when the Stormbringer had started to gather supporters, Danni had seen him fight. He had given his great broadsword the same title that he had given himself - the Stormbringer. He was said to have forged it from metals claimed deep beneath the ground, and the way he fought with it was almost like a fierce storm.  
  
"Ye should've killed that rat," said Laskit, frowning at Danni. "He'll be comin' back fer ye before this war's done, I kin guarantee it. Ye better be ready fer 'im, 'cause I don't think that sort o' beast'll fergit an insult like ye gave 'im."  
  
"If he comes for me, I'll kill him," said Danni, waving her dagger in Laskit's face. The searat did not flinch, but his eyes followed the vixen's dagger until she slipped it back into her belt. "I don't think the Stormbringer would be too pleased if I killed off one of his beasts, no matter how incompetent it was, unless it was actually physically threatening me."  
  
"I don't think he'd hold ye to those orders, Danni," said Laskit, giving the vixen a toothy grin. "Jes' as long as ye didn't deprive 'im of a horde. Ye're his mate after all, though I don't know what he sees in ye."  
  
Danni ignored what other beasts would've thought an insult. Between her and Laskit, it was a friendly battle of wit. But she wasn't in the mood for that sort of conversation right now. "The Stormbringer said that he'd like to see us if we came across any hares. Do you know where he is?"  
  
"That I do, Danni," said Laskit. He gestured toward the front of the horde, which had begun to march again. "'is bodyguards'll keep our talks private, even if we're on the move. 'is other advisors are up there already, an' he's waitin' fer us to start the talk. Shall we go?"  
  
Danni nodded and followed Laskit to the front of the horde. Mark and Mokkin walked side by side, conversing in low voices that even the Stormbringer's bodyguards couldn't hear. Ryslia marched awkwardly on her weak legs, her left wing hanging limply from her side. And the Stormbringer himself marched in front, covered by a black cloak with its hood up. He his gaze on the lands in front of him and his right paw rested at his left side next to his sword, Stormbringer.  
  
When Danni and Laskit drew close to him, he rose his left paw and waved his other advisors over. Mark and Mokkin reluctantly made their way over to the Stormbringer, and Ryslia hobbled over on her legs to where the other beasts were standing.  
  
After glancing at his bodyguards to ensure that they were keeping other beasts that might overhear away, the Stormbringer began to speak. His voice was smooth, and Danni had to resist the urge to sigh when she heard it. Of course, it did not have that effect on the other beasts in his horde, but to her ears, the Stormbringer's voice was heavenly.  
  
"So, we have hares," he said, gesturing to where the Long Patrollers had been. They had managed to disappear while Danni's attention had been diverted from them, but she had no doubt that they were still watching the horde. "We were woefully unprepared for that attack," the Stormbringer continued. Danni flinched. When the Stormbringer spoke in that tone of voice, it usually meant injury or death for somebeast.  
  
But not this time. "We need to keep more alert watches. Mark, go appoint beasts to keep watch. Tell whoever you assign to keep an eye out in the distance to remember that the Long Patrol are experts at hiding themselves. Ferrets and foxes would be good lookouts. Sly and clever, and more likely to see through deception than any other beasts in this horde. And make sure you don't assign one of the less intelligent ferrets or foxes to the task of keeping watch. We don't want them to catch us by surprise."  
  
The ferret nodded and turned to go set some efficient watchers. The Stormbringer continued his conversation with his other advisors even after Mark had left. "Now we've seen the strength of the Long Patrol. We'll be fighting many more hares than this when we reach Salamandastron, so we'll need to be ready. Is there anything that we could do that we aren't already doing?"  
  
Laskit spoke out in response. "I still say we should head east, into Mossflower. Th' woodlanders won't be expectin' us. I bet that Salamandastron hasn't even bothered t' inform the woodlanders of our arrival. We could take Mossflower Country by surprise, an' be on our way t' Redwall afore th' Long Patrol could catch us."  
  
The Stormbringer shook his head. "No. It would be an excellent plan if we could be sure that the Long Patrol wouldn't follow us, but we can't. Would you have us caught between two armies? That is how the Stormrat War was lost. I won't lose this one like that."  
  
"I understand, sir," said Lasket.  
  
"Anything else?" asked the Stormbringer, looking at his advisors. "No? Alright then, get on with the march."  
  
The advisors went their separate ways. Danni turned and walked back into the horde, giving the Stormbringer one final glance. His eyes met hers, and for a moment he smiled. "See you soon," he mouthed to her. Then Danni backed into the horde, heading toward the end of the marching line to march in solitude. 


	8. Chapter Eight

Five seasons ago, Cain had stood in front of Martin's tapestry much like he was standing now. Then, he had been confident in his skills, and had trusted that the spirit of Martin would protect him. The Stormrat War had proved to Cain that he was nearly insignificant in battle. His confidence had not vanished, but he had become more grim when it came to war, and life in general. And he was not sure if he believed that Martin's spirit watched over Redwall. He used to, but after losing Kelly his faith in Martin's spirit had wavered.  
  
"Listen to me, mouse," he said, after looking around to make sure no other beast would be around to overhear his private conversation with Martin the Warrior. "You took Kelly from me, and I'll never forgive you for letting that happen. I'm not even sure if your spirit is here at Redwall. Maybe this tapestry is just another picture, and the "miracles" you've performed are nothing more than the imaginations of us Redwallers. But I'd like to believe that you're watching us from beyond the gates of Dark Forest. So I'll ask this of you, if you're there. No, I'll beg it of you. Please, let Andrew survive this war, and let him become a better beast than I have been. And Martin... please let me die. Life is meaningless without Kelly, and I want to be with her in Dark Forest. But I won't kill myself, for the sake of my son. So please let me die an honorable death that Andrew will be able to speak of with pride in his voice."  
  
After making his requests of the long-dead warrior, Cain stood back and stared at the tapestry. He didn't know what, but he expected the mouse to do something, perhaps send some sort of sign from within Dark Forest or giving him some sort of vision that would say that his requests were granted. But after Cain had passed minutes waiting for some sort of sign from Martin, he finally decided that the dead warrior would not speak to him. Cain glared at the tapestry and shook his fist. He knew the gesture was futile, but he wanted some way to express his anger at Martin.  
  
"You can't make demands of Martin," said a voice from behind him. Cain whirled around and brought his paws up to punch whoever had snuck up on him. It was Gormin, though, and he let his arms fall to his sides. "I've tried demanding things of Martin's spirit," the Champion continued, his voice bitter. "I never got anything from him. No sword, no respect, none of the things he had. Why does he taunt me like this?"  
  
"Who ever said he was taunting you?" asked Cain. "And how do you know that Martin's spirit is actually here, in Redwall? How do we know that he can touch us from within Dark Forest? Why do we place our trust in the spirit of a dead warrior? We need to trust ourselves, not some spirit that may or may not be watching over us."  
  
"Cain, I like to have hope," said Gormin, looking at the tapestry. "I like to believe that Martin is watching over us, and that we don't have to manage every bit of our lives by ourselves. Things are so much... lighter when there's something or someone other than ourselves and what we see every day that we can believe in. I know I might not seem the type, but I can't believe that there is nothing that us beasts can have faith in. Martin founded this Abbey, and I believe that he still watches over us today."  
  
"I lost all my hope and faith when I lost Kelly," snapped Cain, glaring at Gormin.  
  
The squirrel sighed and shook his head. "Losing your wife has changed you, Cain. I remember you when you were younger. You were happier than any of the rest of us. Even when you grew older, your happiness remained something that guided you through life and encouraged everyone around you. Your depression after the war hurt us more than you know. Not only are you unhappy, you withdrew from the beasts that were trying to help you and paid no attention to any of them."  
  
"I only want to be with Kelly," answered Cain, clenching his paws into fists. "I would still be friendly if Kelly was here, but there's no reason for me to try since she isn't. Without her, I don't see any reason why I should keep living. I can't enjoy it at all. Even raising Andrew isn't the same without Kelly by my side."  
  
Gormin shook his head again. "I understand how you feel. I would hate life too, if there was no reason for me to live." He bowed his head for a moment, as if in thought. When he raised it again, Cain knew that the squirrel had figured something out, though he couldn't guess what. "I'm going to wait out side for the rest of Redwall to finish eating their lunch. If I were you, I'd get some food. We're setting out right after we eat, and there'll be no time to stop the march for snacks until dark."  
  
Gormin left Cain standing alone in Great Hall. The feast for the departing warriors was being held in Cavern Hole, for the reason that Abbess Elm wanted to give beasts a chance to speak with Martin's tapestry in private. So far, Cain was the only beast that had done so. He glanced in the direction of Cavern Hole. He wasn't very hungry, as he had eaten a hearty breakfast.  
  
Instead of Cavern Hole, Cain went to his dormitory. Up there, he donned his leather breastplate and strapped on his sword belt and hooked on his sword. Then, he went back down the stairs and outside, to where Gormin, Jacob, and a few warriors who had decided against attending the farewell meal were waiting.  
  
Jacob caught Cain's eye and walked away from the other beasts to intercept the mouse as he approached. Cain felt his heart quicken. Perhaps something had happened to the beasts that were being kept drugged in the gatehouse. No, even Jacob wouldn't be able to stay calm in a situation like that. "They're still asleep," the recorder said when he got close enough to Cain.  
  
The mouse gave a relieved smile. "Just keep them that way for a day and a half more and we'll be okay. We are going to fight this war."  
  
Slowly, Redwallers began coming out of the Abbey and onto the grounds. Otters, mice, squirrels, and a few hedgehogs marched forward, taking whatever positions they pleased and waiting for the rest of the warriors to come out. Cain, too, watched the doors of the main Abbey building, but with a great deal more patience than most of the other beasts. He saw Skipper come out, talking animatedly with two otter companions. I wonder if those otters knew... Cain mentally clamped down on the thought before it could completely form.  
  
Colin was one of the next beasts out of the door. He came over to Cain, wary for some reason, but apparently willing to talk. Cain remembered what Gormin had said in the Great Hall about pushing other beasts away, and made himself talk with Colin. He tried his best not to be bitter, and kept the topic of the conversation light and easy to relate to. Colin seemed surprised but pleased, and Cain found himself remembering happier times when Colin was more to him than a companion. When we were younger... Cain thought, and was surprised to find himself close to tears.  
  
By the time the rest of Redwall's warriors had filed out, Cain had regained control of himself. Cain and Colin talked awkwardly, but companionably as their comrades lined up and prepared to leave the Abbey. Skipper stood at the head of the otters, and Gormin and Candice stood in front of Redwall's army. Cain and Colin were mixed in with the other soldiers, but Cain felt somehow that he was one of the beasts leading the army on.  
  
All in all, the army of Redwall was almost one hundred fifty beasts strong. There were over two score more warriors, but it had been decided that they should stay behind at the Abbey in case something unexpected happened. More proof that our deception is justified, though Cain. He waited patiently for the rest of the beasts to form into a marching column.  
  
When they had arranged themselves neatly enough for Gormin's satisfaction, he nodded to Abbess Elm, and she stepped forward. She raised a paw to silence those beasts who were speaking among themselves, and then started to speak. The Abbess had probably prepared the speech before that moment, but Cain was somehow sure that even if they were planned out, they came from her heart.  
  
"Good beasts of Redwall, we've come here this afternoon to bid our warriors farewell, and wish them the best of luck and the protection of Martin's spirit as they make their journey to Salamandastron. They carry the banner of Redwall into war, and everybeast within this Abbey wishes them well." A few snorts came from the direction of the beasts that were staying behind; the Abbey had been divided on the issue of whether or not to go to war, and though Abbess Elm and the beasts that did support war tried to put on an encouraging face for the beasts that were marching off to fight the vermin horde, most of the departing warriors were well aware that their actions were not supported by many of the Abbeybeasts.  
  
"Now, let's give our warriors one final farewell and send them on their way. The horde will be upon Salamandastron in a matter of days, according to Candice, and we cannot leave Lord Rocketh standing alone. Everybeast and every minute counts. Now, be on your way."  
  
The Abbess ended her speech, and the main gates of Redwall were opened to let the warriors through. They marched slowly at first, but when they passed through the main gates and reached the air outside of Redwall, the beasts began to pick up their pace and march relentlessly west.  
  
"So, we're going to be marching until nightfall?" asked Colin, standing next to hm. Cain nodded in response. "It reminds me of when I was younger. You weren't there when the Redwallers set out at the start of our part in the Stormrat War, but we went in the same direction and stopped at nightfall, too. Gormin wanted to continue on through the night, but Skipper managed to convince him that our warriors needed rest. We were better off in the morning because of it, and I think Gormin has learned his lesson."  
  
The day passed slowly for Cain, but he managed to converse with Colin as he hadn't in seasons. Both the mouse and the squirrel enjoyed the experience, and it seemed to both of them that they had re-established their bond of friendship that Cain's grief-filled seasons had severed. He felt remorse for his actions, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize for them. I love Kelly fiercely, with all my heart, he thought, walking alongside Colin. Her love brought me this far in life, and I can still feel it, even now that she's beyond my reach. She's waiting for me in Dark Forest, and I'll see her there when my time comes. I've been such a fool. Tears came to Cain's eyes once again as he thought this, but he didn't bother to brush them away. He kept marching, and though Colin noticed the wetness of his eyes, he didn't mention it at all.  
  
It seemed that Gormin had learned from experience. By the time the light from the sun had faded from above them, the Redwallers were well into Mossflower Wood. Instead of pushing them further, Gormin told them to halt and light campfires. They ate their dinner with much conversation, and the flames from the fire warmed everybeast.  
  
After he had eaten, Cain spread out his bedroll on the ground next to Colin. The squirrel tried to hide his delight, but Cain could still see that the gesture meant a lot to him. He laid himself down, and stared up through the branches at the stars and the moon in the sky. For once, his thoughts didn't turn to his wife, though she seemed to lurk at the edge of his mind. He thought instead about his son, Andrew, and his two friends that hopefully were still drugged in the gatehouse. Cain's son was fiercely loyal to his friends, almost as loyal as Cain had been to Kelly. He would naturally be angry with his father for what he had done to them, but Cain had no doubt that he would see the necessity of it. Since he had separated himself from most of the beasts that dwelled within the Abbey, he was able to see the relations between other beasts more clearly. Though he had never mentioned it, Cain was sure that the division between the Abbeybeasts was obvious to Andrew. He was sure to see that without Cain's actions, there was no way that Redwall's warriors would be marching toward Salamandastron, and that his father had made the best decision he could have.  
  
But would Andrew forgive him? When he was the age of his son, anybeast that had done that sort of thing to Kelly or one of his friends would soon be made to regret it. His sense of right and wrong had been a lot more fierce at that age, even if his judgment was impaired by inexperience. Andrew was mature for his age, and would doubtless see the need for Cain's actions, but would that be enough to erase the anger he would feel at seeing what Cain had done to his friends?  
  
No, it probably wouldn't, admitted Cain to himself. But the anger would not be enough to erase the feelings of love that Andrew felt for Cain. That, he was certain of. Of all the beasts to walk the land Andrew would be one of the last beasts I'd do harm to. Kelly is dead. And the only other beast to hold my friendship is Colin, the father of one of the beasts that I had drugged and is being imprisoned in the gatehouse. What a sad beast I am.  
  
Cain laid still for some time, looking up at the stars and thinking fond thoughts of his son and times that had passed in the days before the Stormrat War. Other beasts had fallen straight to sleep, like Colin had beside him. Somebeasts lay awake in their bed like Cain did, but instead of thinking about times past and beast that had been lost, they were thinking nervous thoughts about the coming conflict. But all of the warriors that had left Redwall were asleep on their bedrolls, except for the beasts that had been chosen by Skipper and Gormin to keep watch. The silence around him and the peacefulness of the night sky lured Cain to sleep. He didn't even notice as his mind slipped away from his memories and into dreams of what would come.  
  
~~~  
  
The night was not so calm for the Long Patrol. Sergeant Polwyn and his hares followed the vermin horde as stealthily as they could, but they did not risk an attack because of the many guards that the vermin's leader had posted around the perimeter of their encampment. Polwyn had tried to find a safe way for his hares to attack, but he was unable to find a way around the vermin guards. Now, half his hares were asleep and the rest were spread out around them, keeping watch for any vermin attack. "This is a bad predicament I got us all into," he muttered, staring out from behind a boulder at the vermin encampment. "Maybe it would've been for th' best if Lord Rocketh stripped me of my rank th' day I managed to get my scouts ambushed by those beasts."  
  
A hare sitting near Polwyn overheard the sergeant's lamentations and offered him some words of comfort. "'twasn't your fault, Sergeant. Neither you or Lord Rocketh had any way o' knowin' that this horde was lurkin' south o' Salamandastron. If it hadn't been for you, these vermin would probably have caught us all by surprise. There'd be no time for a runner to get to Redwall and come back with aid. By th' time the warriors of that Abbey could get to Salamandastron, we'd be dead. Your gettin' ambushed was for the best, sah."  
  
Polwyn looked at the hare and thought about what she had said. "You might be right," he said at last. "But there's still no guarantee that th' Redwallers'll come to help us. It all depends on Candice, an' the way that she deals with those Abbeybeasts. They've probably reached a decision already. But there's no way for us to know what they've decided, wot?"  
  
The hare held the sergeant's gaze for a few moments, and then turned her head away to look back out at the vermin encampment. They had started campfires from the driftwood they could find on the shore or near it. They didn't dare venture too far east of the shore for fear of running into the Long Patrol, so they were limited to what they had gathered. If nothing else, the hares that Sergeant Polwyn had brought on his trek south would make it difficult for the vermin in the horde to keep warm.  
  
That was some beast we saw today, thought Polwyn, turning his thoughts to the Stormrat that had made its appearance after the Long Patrol ambush. Polwyn had fought in the Stormrat War, but he had never seen a Stormrat that looked that fierce during the war. And he didn't remember the Stormrat that took part in the ambush that had killed many of his hares a few days ago being that large. Maybe there was something impressive about him today, he thought. And I didn't get a very good look at the Stormrat that ambushed us.  
  
Once again, Polwyn changed the focus of his thoughts. This time, he considered how the Redwallers would be likely to respond to Candice's message. In the few times that he had visited the Abbey, he had met many beasts that seemed like they would be opposed to war if it ever occurred. According to a rumor among the Long Patrol, there had been groups of Redwallers that had protested sending out an army to fight in the Stormrat War, even though it was quite plainly necessary.  
  
But then there were the beasts who saw the truth, plain and simple, no matter how hard it might be. Redwall's Champion, Gormin, had been one of those beasts. Even though he had never fought in a war before, he was able to adapt quickly and fight almost as efficiently as an experienced Long Patroller. He had never objected to the fight, even when his comrades were slain around him. He might not have liked the war, but he had understood the necessity.  
  
Redwall's Skipper of otters was another beast that managed to impress Polwyn with his ability to see the truth and lead the beasts that followed him based on it. There had been no question when the Redwallers reached Salamandastron that Skipper and his otters were ready and willing to fight the Stormrats' horde. During the course of the war, Skipper had managed to make many difficult decisions, some resulting in a loss of life among the beasts who were under his command. But Skipper bore the weight of his decisions with heroic strength, and even though he felt guilt when beasts died because of orders he had given, he hadn't stepped down from his duty.  
  
Those two beasts were sure to see the necessity of war. No matter how many Redwallers were vehemently opposed to war, they would not budge from their position. Sergeant Polwyn believed that they would set out on their own, if they had to, to assist Lord Rocketh in defending Salamandastron. The right path would be clear enough to a beast as perceptive as Gormin had proven himself to be. And Redwall's Skipper would certainly see that Salamandastron needed to be defended. Even if he came without many supporters, the Long Patrol could use his leadership in the battles that were certain to come.  
  
But would they be able to convince other Redwallers to come? Even if those two beasts did come to Salamandastron, they would make little difference in the outcome of the battle. But if they could convince the rest of Redwall that sending an army of warriors to Salamandastron would turn the tide of battle against these vermin, Salamandastron and Mossflower Country just might have a chance after all.  
  
What am I to the beasts who I will fight beside? Polwyn asked himself. He doubted that any of the Redwallers would recognize him unless they fought alongside him in the last war, and too few of the beasts from Redwall had done that for him to be recognized by them. To Lord Rocketh, he was a hare with more experience than the rest. He would be relying on Polwyn to direct the younger hares and prepare them for the battle that was to come. And to the hares who were under his command, he was a leader that they trusted with their lives. It seemed that every hare who he commanded took his orders to heart, and trusted him to know what was the best solution to the situation at paw. Will I make a difference at all? That question made him wonder about what his real purpose as a hare of the Long Patrol was, and his confidence was shaken by the fact that he didn't know the answer.  
  
I wonder if that runner is alright. Polwyn turned his thoughts away from his uncomfortable doubts and to one of the beasts that was under his command. He had escaped the wrath of the vermin horde, and was on his way to inform Lord Rocketh what had happened when the hares and vermin had clashed. Polwyn suddenly realized that he hadn't told Merlin what Lord Rocketh would want to hear. He might be ambitious, but he wasn't experienced in situations like these. He could only hope that the runner said what Lord Rocketh needed to hear, or that the Badger Lord would interrogate him until he got the information he needed.  
  
As he thought this, a sudden sensation of despair descended on Polwyn's shoulders. Will we win this war? Are Redwall's warriors on their way to help us, or are they going to sit at their Abbey until it's too late? Is anything I do in this war going to make a difference?  
  
But even though he didn't know the answers to many of his questions, he knew that there would be a reliable beast leading the war against the Stormrats. Lord Rocketh might be inexperienced, but he had been chosen by fate to be Salamandastron's Badger Lord. If that didn't speak for a beast, nothing did. With the help of more experienced Long Patrollers, Lord Rocketh would be able to lead the beasts of Salamandastron almost as well as Lord Sunforge had in the seasons before his death. Lord Rocketh wouldn't be Salamandastron's Badger Lord otherwise.  
  
The hare that had reassured him before caught Polwyn's attention again with a loud whisper. "Sah, look at that! Unless I'm missin' my guess, which I'm not, that's a bird movin' away from the vermin camp. I can't be sure from this distance, but I think that's an eagle."  
  
Sergeant Polwyn followed the hare's gaze. By the faint light of the moon, the sergeant could see the figure of a large bird hobbling away from the shore, flapping one wing as if to help itself walk and keeping the other still at its side. The bird hopped atop a boulder, and stared up at the moon. Then, it spread its wings. Though the gesture obviously caused it pain, it leaped off the boulder and flapped both wings desperately. For a few moments, it looked as if the bird would be able to stay in the air, but the winged beast's wings failed and it fell to the ground.  
  
"Poor beast," muttered the hare next to Polwyn as the bird got up on it's legs and hobbled back to the vermin camp. The bird had held itself high when it had walked out to the boulder, even though its hobbling walk had almost caused the sergeant to laugh. But now its head hung low, and its back drooped. "It must've been a proud flyer, once. A shame that its reduced to hobblin' along like this."  
  
The other hare nodded, looking sympathetically after the proud beast. "Jus' thinkin' that we might have to fight that beast makes me feel... guilty. But an enemy's an enemy, wot?"  
  
Polwyn nodded and turned his attention back to the rest of the camp. Aside from the sentries and a few beasts moving about, there didn't seem to be anybeast awake. But he could be wrong, since the moon didn't provide very much light and the fires were almost burned out. The only thing to do was to sit and watch, which Polwyn did for the rest of the night. 


	9. Chapter Nine

The sun was slowly rising when Merlin came to Salamandastron. He had run along the coast through the night, and when he saw the mountain looming in the distance, he was relieved. Even though he had been trained as a runner, the journey between where Sergeant Polwyn's had fought the previous day and Salamandastron was more than enough to strain his legs, especially paired with the exertion of being Sergeant Polwyn's primary scout through the whole journey.  
  
When Merlin walked toward one of Salamandastron's many entrances, he was greeted by a hare even newer to the Patrol than he was. The Long Patroller seemed unnaturally jumpy, and after Merlin introduced himself, he asked the hare about it. "Why so jumpy, friend? Th' vermin are a way south of here, an' it'll be a bit before th' war actually starts in full force."  
  
The hare at the door shook his head. "That's not what I'm worried about, but thanks for carin'. My worries are more towards Sergeant Polwyn's hares. They're facing a horde of vermin with many times the amount of beasts he has with him. In fact, there are even more vermin in that horde than we have hares at Salamandastron. I know that th' Sergeant isn't down there to defeat th' vermin horde, but what if th' vermin decide t' track down the Sergeant's hares an' kill them? Would they be able to fight back?"  
  
Merlin shook his head. "They wouldn't fight back, they'd run. No matter how many beasts are in th' vermin horde, there would only be a few that could keep pace with a hare. If there were any at all. So there's no way that Sergeant Polwyn an' his hares would be caught without an escape route. An' believe me, the Sergeant is too cautious t' be caught off his guard by those vermin. He was surprised by them once before, an' that was only because he didn't see any reason t' keep his guard up. This time, he'll be more careful, an' there's no chance that those scoundrels will find a way t' get at his hares."  
  
"That's a jolly good thing t' hear," said the younger hare, seeming to be genuinely relieved by Merlin's words. "Now, what're you here for? I don't know th' sergeant personally, but I don't think that Sergeant Polwyn would send his runner back for no reason. Is there anybeast in particular you want t' see?"  
  
So young, Merlin was surprised to find himself thinking. He had been given patronizing looks by the older Long Patrollers before, even those who were only a few seasons into their service at Salamandastron and had never fought in the Stormrat War. Merlin could understand why the older Long Patrollers would think less of a hare that had not yet proved himself to Salamandastron, but he started to wonder if the hares that were just a few seasons more experienced than he was really had any more experience than he did. Aside from a few skirmishes along the coast, the Long Patrol had stayed out of trouble, and there would have been no chance for the newer hares to prove themselves.  
  
Lord Rocketh, too, was inexperienced, but Merlin found himself respecting the Badger Lord even more than the experienced Long Patrol hares. The badger had adapted to his position as Lord of Salamandastron quickly, and though he hadn't seen any actual battles yet, he still seemed calm even with a horde of vermin stronger than the Long Patrol a few days' march from Salamandastron. Merlin didn't doubt that the Badger Lord was feeling some pressure, but he seemed more able to deal with and ready for battle than all except the most seasoned Long Patroller.  
  
When Merlin noticed that he was keeping the hare waiting, he nodded. "Yes. Sergeant Polwyn told me t' go directly t' Lord Rocketh. It's an urgent message. You could either lead me t' him or tell me where he is so I could find him myself."  
  
"I think Lord Rocketh is in the forge room," said the hare. "He probably won't want t' be disturbed, but if your news is urgent enough that Sergeant Polwyn wanted you t' go t' him directly, I doubt he'll mind."  
  
Merlin nodded his thanks and walked into the mountain. Hares glanced at him curiously as he passed, but they didn't ask any questions. The runner climbed up Salamandastron, and after about ten minutes he finally arrived at the door to the forge room.  
  
Colonel Jeffrey raised a paw in greeting. "Hello, Merlin. Lord Rocketh is inside o' his forge room, but he isn't in a mood to be talkin' t' anybeast. He drove me out a bit ago when I tried t' make a suggestion 'bout our upcomin' war. He told me t' wait 'til later, but I have no idea when he's goin' t' be done. I'm waitin' out here for th' moment, so if you'd care to join me, you're welcome to."  
  
"Thank you, sah," said Merlin, leaning against one of Salamandastron's walls. "What is it that drives Lord Rocketh t' try t' forge weapons? Th' armory has more'n enough for the entire Long Patrol, so I don't see why he feels he needs t' make more. I'd understand it if it was just him feelin' that he needed a good weapon, but he seems to want t' outfit the whole Long Patrol with weapons an' armor made with his own two paws."  
  
The colonel nodded in agreement, and Merlin could tell that his mind was occupied by similar thoughts. "I think he believes that he isn't a good enough Badger Lord t' rule this mountain if he can't forge weapons an' armor of the same quality his predecessors made," said Jeffrey. "An' after you left for the coast south o' here, Lord Rocketh had taken to carryin' around that sword that Lord Rocketh had made for the next Badger Lord of this mountain. Before now, he'd refused t' touch the thing, but now that war is upon us I think that he's lost his reservations about usin' it. But he's still tryin' to forge weapons of his own, an' it doesn't sound like he's doin' a very good job of it."  
  
Jeffrey's words were soon proved to be true. A cry of frustration could be heard from within the forge room, and Merlin could make out the sounds of metal crashing against rock and the swinging of a sword through the air. His eyes widened, and even Jeffrey seemed a bit startled by the noise that was coming from the forge room. The colonel reached out a paw and placed it on Merlin's shoulder, leading the younger hare away from the forge room.  
  
"It might be best if you were t' wait to deliver your news t' him," said Jeffrey, leading Merlin back down toward the first level of Salamandastron. "Badger Lords can be nasty when they were in a temper. Now, would you mind tellin' me what this news you were sent to deliver is all about? If you can't talk to Lord Rocketh, you can at least tell it to me, wot wot?"  
  
"Yes, I could, sah," answered Merlin. At Jeffrey's impatient nod, Merlin continued speaking. "We attacked the vermin horde, an' managed t' kill a few o' th' beasts. They got a few o' our hares before the Sergeant withdrew. But I don't think that it was th' battle itself that the sergeant wanted me t' tell Lord Rocketh about. I think he wanted him t' know what happened afterward."  
  
"Well then, spit it out," said Colonel Jeffrey. "What is it that you think th' sergeant wanted Lord Rocketh t' know?"  
  
"After we managed to escape, we regrouped further away from th' vermin horde. When we looked back at 'em, we saw a Stormrat. But it looked even more fierce than I had heard. He was twice as big as a normal searat, an' as strong lookin' as a badger. Even Sergeant Polwyn seemed surprised." Colonel Jeffrey was about to interrupt him, but Merlin raised a paw to stop him. "I know what you're goin' t' say, sah, but I'm not exaggeratin'. Sergeant Polwyn didn't tell me exactly what he wanted me t' say t' Lord Rocketh when I got here, but since it was the Stormrat that seemed t' shake him the most, I figured that that was what he wanted me t' tell Lord Rocketh."  
  
"Sergeant Polwyn didn't tell you what he wanted Lord Rocketh t' know?" said Colonel Jeffrey, genuinely confused. "That was very unprofessional o' him. He must've been shaken to send you here without any idea o' what to tell Lord Rocketh. The Stormrat must've shaken him up bad." Merlin was relieved to hear this, since it gave the impression that Jeffrey believed him when he told about the Stormrat.  
  
Colonel Jeffrey led Merlin to the dining hall, which was deserted except for a number of hares moving across the cavernous room and a few Long Patrollers eating at the tables. Jeffrey brought Merlin over to where oatcakes sat on one of the tables. After giving the other hares in the dining hall a quick glance to ensure that none of them were watching, Jeffrey grabbed two of the oatcakes, clutching one to his chest and giving the other to Merlin. "Nobeast'll miss these," he said quietly, and beckoned Merlin to go sit at the far end of one of the tables.  
  
Merlin sat, and munched at the pilfered oatcake. It tasted heavenly after his run, and Merlin only regretted that he could not eat more of the Long Patrol cooks' fare. While not as good as the food that was reputed to be served at Redwall, the food prepared by Salamandastron's cooks had to sustain all of the Long Patrol. And while it was often said that hares would eat anything, it was a well-known fact that they preferred to have the best food available to them. Salamandastron's cooks catered to these needs as best they could.  
  
The two hares finished their oatcakes, and sat in silence for a while. Merlin's hunger had not been completely satisfied, but he was glad for the chance to have eaten something other than the meager rations Sergeant Polwyn had taken with him on his journey south.  
  
"Do y' think that Lord Rocketh has calmed down by now?" asked Merlin after several minutes of silence. He was getting impatient, and wanted to deliver his message to the Badger Lord as soon as possible.  
  
"I don't know, Merlin," answered Colonel Jeffrey, shrugging his shoulders. "Badgers' tempers are unpredictable. One minute they're th' most calm and friendly beasts around, an' th' next minute they're in a battle-rage, killin' everythin' in their path whether it be vermin or goodbeast." Jeffrey glanced upward, as if he were trying to see through the rock layer of Salamandastron to the forge room. "Lord Rocketh hasn't succumbed to the Bloodwrath yet, but workin' with metals is enough t' drive him into a rage. He's a fierce temper as it is, an' I wouldn't want t' be in his way on th' battlefield if he should be taken by the Bloodwrath."  
  
Every badger who had ruled Salamandastron had come under the influence of the Bloodwrath at sometime in his or her life, with only a few exceptions. The Bloodwrath filled a beast with a burning rage and a desire to kill. Anybeast under the grip of the Bloodwrath would slay anybeast in its path, friend and foe alike. Although Lord Rocketh had not yet come under the grip of this insane battle rage, there was no doubt that he would be more formidable than any vermin. Except, perhaps, a Stormrat.  
  
"Should I go look for him, or wait a bit?" Merlin asked uncertainly. He had been trained in the ways of combat, but only the most experienced hare was able to deal with a Badger Lord of Salamandastron in a bad mood. Younger hares only stepped into the presence of an enraged Badger Lord when they were forced to, and even older Long Patrollers tended to shy away from such confrontations. "I don't want to cross paths with him if he isn't in the mood to talk to other beasts, but what I have to say may be urgent. What should I do, Colonel?"  
  
Jeffrey's face adopted a contemplative expression, but he was saved from answering Merlin's query. Lord Rocketh walked into Salamandastron's dining room, just barely managing to keep his head high and not even trying to hide his tired face. Merlin guessed that the fires of the Badger Lord's rage had been burnt out on whatever he had been attempting to forge, and he was now left exhausted.  
  
"Now's your chance, wot wot," said Colonel Jeffrey, standing and reaching down a paw to pull Merlin up beside him. "Go tell Lord Rocketh what you came here t' tell him. He might not like what you have t' say, but he's too tired t' do anythin' that th' beasts in this room can't deal with. That is, if they were given enough warnin'." Jeffrey chuckled when he saw the look of dread that crossed Merlin's face. "I was jus' kiddin' with you, lad. Now, go an' tell him what you saw."  
  
Reluctantly, Merlin walked over to Lord Rocketh. It took all his will to keep his legs from shaking, and his paws clenched into fists at his sides. This is more difficult than seeing that Stormrat, he thought. And then, he was at the Badger Lord's side, and mustering up his courage, Merlin spoke. "Sire, this is Merlin, th' runner you sent with Sergeant Polwyn, reportin'. I got some news that you might want t' hear."  
  
~~~  
  
Lord Rocketh was more exhausted than he had been when he had awoke during the night with a burning desire to forge a weapon. Despite having just awoken, Lord Rocketh splashed water on his face from the basin that stood on the stand beside his bed and made his way up to the forge room. He had considered taking the great sword that Lord Sunforge had made for him with him, since he carried it almost everywhere he went, but decided against taking another badger's work into the forge room while he was working. Once he was there, he had heated a bar of steel in the forge's fire and begun to hammer it on his anvil. He had planned to make a magnificent longsword, but halfway through his efforts it had been plain that Lord Rocketh's efforts would not produce a piece that would measure up to his expectations.  
  
But even after this realization, Rocketh continued to hammer at the metal, desperate to shape a weapon that would live up to his expectations. But when he had finished hammering and submerged the steel in the forge room's water tank. Once the hissing of cooling metal had ceased, Lord Rocketh withdrew the blade from the tank and hoped against hope that he would not find what he had expected. But the blade that had been forged was nowhere near his expectations, and he had submitted to his frustration.  
  
If anybeast was to walk into the forge room right now, they would see hardly any evidence of the rage and frustration that Lord Rocketh had been feeling just minutes ago. The blade that he had forged lay bent next to the anvil, and he had thrown his hammer against the forge room's wall. But the rest of the racket that Lord Rocketh had made was caused by the Badger Lord's frustrated pounding against the stone floor of the forge room and his bestial exclamations of rage. By the time he had regained his senses, he had barely enough energy left in him to stand and walk out of the forge room.  
  
The badger had considered going to his chambers to sleep, but he remembered that Colonel Jeffrey had wanted to see him about the coming war with the vermin horde. Nothing urgent, if he remembered correctly, but still important enough to merit his attention. If nothing else, talking to him would reassure the Colonel that Rocketh was recovered from his outburst. Lord Rocketh's first destination was the dining hall, since that was Jeffrey's favorite location within the mountain fortress. But when he finally reached the dining hall, Lord Rocketh had found himself unable to continue walking and had to slump down in a chair to regain his energy.  
  
He was surprised when a hare approached him. His surprise grew when he heard that it was Merlin, one of the hares he had sent out to assist Sergeant Polwyn in his harassment of the vermin horde south of Salamandastron. The Badger Lord brought his head up and stared at the hare. "Yes, I would like to hear whatever news Sergeant Polwyn sent you to deliver," said Lord Rocketh, tearing his mind away from thoughts of rest and giving his complete attention to the hare.  
  
"Yesterday mornin', the hares that you sent south under the command o' Sergeant Polwyn surprised an' attacked the vermin horde. After the initial surprise wore off, th' vermin tried to get in close, but we managed to turn tail an' flee before they managed to hurt us. But a group o' their archers managed to down a couple o' our hares, an' we had taken some losses before we managed t' get out o' arrow range an' regroup." Merlin shuffled his feet uncertainly, as if not sure of what to say next.  
  
Lord Rocketh was willing to help get the information out of him. "I don't think that Sergeant Polwyn would send you here just to report the outcome of a single ambush," said the badger. "There must be something more that you haven't told me yet. What is it that the sergeant thinks I need to know?  
  
"Well, sire... we saw th' Stormrat on the battlefield today. But it didn't look anythin' like what I expected it to. Th' whole patrol seemed awed, and even Sergeant Polwyn seemed surprised. I guess that not even Stormrats are usually that fierce an' strong looking." After Merlin had said his piece, he began to shuffle his feet again. He cast a nervous glance toward the main door of the dining hall, and Lord Rocketh could tell that the hare wanted to be out of his presence as soon as possible. Maybe he heard what I was doing inside the forge room? thought Rocketh, remembering his frustration and the noise he had made because of it.  
  
"What exactly made this Stormrat so fearsome?" asked Lord Rocketh.  
  
"The Stormrat was twice as big as a normal rat, an' looked about as strong as you. Sergeant Polwyn said that it was nothin' like the Stormrats he fought in th' war, but I don't think he meant for th' other hares t' hear what he said." Merlin looked up at Lord Rocketh, and made a visible effort to get himself under control. "Can I... leave now, sire?"  
  
Rocketh nodded. "Thank you for delivering the news. Go to your dormitory and get some rest. I'll send out another runner to take your place. You're dismissed."  
  
"Thank you, sah," said Merlin. The young hare turned and left, leaving Lord Rocketh alone to contemplate his failure in the forge room.  
  
But Lord Rocketh was not left alone for long. "Lord Rocketh," said a hare's voice from in front of the Badger Lord. Before he even looked up, Lord Rocketh knew that it was Colonel Jeffrey. Probably here to scold me for losing my temper on hm, thought Lord Rocketh bitterly. The Badger Lord regretted sending the colonel away when he had come to the forge room, but he did not want to admit that he was wrong. Not yet, at least.  
  
Wearily, Lord Rocketh raised his head and looked at Jeffrey. "Yes, Colonel?" he asked, trying to keep himself as civil as he could even though he was exhausted and the colonel was one of the last beasts that he wanted to talk to.  
  
"I was thinkin' that when th' vermin get here, we're goin' t' have t' defend the garden on th' outside well t' prevent the vermin from destroyin' them. Normally, I wouldn't be worried about somethin' like that, but this horde is significantly stronger than we are. If they were t' burn our gardens, or worse, gain control o' them, we'd be hard-pressed t' keep ourselves supplied. We've got food in th' larders, but if th' vermin take control o' our gardens, I don't think that we'll be able t' outlast them. An' if they brought supplies of their own an' manage to burn our gardens, it'll be just as bad." Colonel Jeffrey looked concernedly at Lord Rocketh. "In th' Stormrat War, we didn't give them a chance t' get to the gardens, but we had the help o' Redwallers before the Stormrats arrived. This time around, it looks like the vermin'll get to us before the Redwallers, if they decide t' come at all. Do y' have any plans for defendin' the gardens?"  
  
"None at present," answered Lord Rocketh, frowning. He tried to think of how to defend the gardens from a vermin horde, but his mind was exhausted and clear thoughts eluded him. "I'll think about it later, Colonel, and I'd appreciate your input. But at the moment, I'd like to sleep."  
  
Jeffrey nodded understandingly. "Lost your temper up there in th' forge room? I heard it from outside, an' young Merlin did, too. Are y' still tryin' t' forge a weapon that'll meet your expectations, even with a vermin horde a couple days south o' here?"  
  
Lord Rocketh smiled guiltily. "Yes, I'm still trying to make magnificent weapons. I might have my own sword, but I still want to be better than I am now. Well, that's not it. Almost every Badger Lord before me seems to have had a good paw when it came to forging weapons and armor, so why shouldn't I?"  
  
The colonel shook his head sadly. "Perhaps y' were just not born with th' talent, as th' other Badger Lords seem t' have been. It may seem t' you that lacking that talent is enough t' make y' unworthy of your position as Lord of Salamandastron, but that isn't th' case. What other Badger Lords seem t' have been born with you could obtain with long seasons of practice. An' forgin' weapons is just one o' the skills that Badger Lords are famous in. You'll find somethin' else to specialize in."  
  
"Are you trying to tell me something, Colonel?" asked Lord Rocketh, somewhat confused. He could sense a meaning in the hare's words, but he was too tired to be able to puzzle it out. And he had a feeling that even if his mind were fully awake, he still wouldn't be able to puzzle out the meaning of Jeffrey's words.  
  
"Lord Sunforge was fond o' saying that everybeast had a talent, an' would find it if they tried," Colonel Jeffrey said, closing his eyes as if in memory. "He used that phrase t' inspire hares that couldn't master a particular skill. I'm usin' it t' say that there are more important things a Badger Lord can do than forge weapons an' armor. Y' might be a smith, but before that, you're a warrior. An' before that, you're a leader. You don't have t' be able to forge metals to be a Badger Lord of Salamandastron. If y' can lead us, it's enough. But it would be better off if y' were a warrior, too. An' a smith would most certainly be a great asset t' th' Long Patrol. Y' can try to be a smith, but not right now. Now, we need a leader an' a warrior. Save your frustration for those duties."  
  
Colonel Jeffrey's words stung Rocketh, but the Badger Lord knew that what he said was correct. He was foolish to spend his time trying to forge weapons that the Long Patrol already had when what they really needed was a leader to rally them. He still felt the desire to make weapons, even though he knew it wasn't necessary, but... he needed to get his priorities straight.  
  
"Thank you, Colonel," Lord Rocketh said gruffly. He stood, and pushed in the chair he had been sitting in. After taking a closer look at it, he was surprised that it had not cracked under his weight. "I'll take your advice to heart."  
  
Then, he left, climbing though Salamandastron to his chambers. When he finally opened his door, he was exhausted from the walk and more than willing to go to sleep. But before he was able to drift off, he thought he saw a shadow in the corner of the room. It looked like a badger, older and stronger than he was.  
  
You're on the right path. The thought came to Lord Rocketh forcefully, but it had a soothing effect. He closed his eyes, and let himself drift into a deep sleep. But before he passed into a world of dreams, he could feel the shadowy badger watching over him. Its presence felt comforting to him, and it felt as if there was some sort of pride in the way it watched over Lord Rocketh. But there was something else, too, a sense of urgency that was too fierce to be ignored. I know you can do this. I chose you for a reason. But you'll need all your strength, and all the help you can get, to do what we all need you to. 


	10. Chapter Ten

All of Redwall's warriors had awoke with the sun. Many did so regretfully, but they knew that the lives of many beasts could rest on how them. By the time the sun was high in the air, Redwall's warriors had made and eaten a breakfast of the food they had departed Redwall with. It took them only about ten minutes to pack their bedrolls and put out their cooking fires. Once they had completed these tasks, they set out again on their march.  
  
Gormin walked in the front of marching Abbeybeasts, along with Skipper and some of Redwall's best warriors. Cain wasn't there; he was probably further down the line talking to Colin. Gormin had been surprised when Cain had adopted a cheerful demeanor the day before, but had quickly grown used to it. Even though he had been a loner at Redwall when he was younger, Gormin had took notice of Cain's cheer when it came to life in general, and it seemed as though it had completely vanished when Kelly had died. Gormin felt that Cain's happiness was a great loss to Redwall, as it had stood out to everybeast from the time he was a dibbun up until the Stormrat War had begun.  
  
Everybeast had felt the effects of Cain's depression in some way. Before the Stormrat War, Redwallers had to look no further than Cain to find an example of a beast who was content with its life. He loved his wife, and they had a son who was cheerful despite the fact that he had a limited number of friends. But after the Stormrat War, Cain had turned into the opposite of what he had been. Instead of a symbol of happiness to the Redwallers, he became gloomy and depressed, and although the Abbeybeasts tried to help him, he remained unhappy. Eventually, they gave up and left him to care for his own feelings.  
  
Most of the beasts that had accompanied Gormin in the march west to Salamandastron had already noticed Cain's change in attitude. It cheered many of them, and gave the beasts another reason to hurry west to defend their home. After all, Cain was a Redwaller, a member of what seemed to be a single family. The happiness of one beast was enough to cheer up many other beasts.  
  
No, that's not completely true, though Gormin, thinking of the difference in opinions that had divided Redwall into separate groups. There were many beasts on the march who didn't care about Redwall as a whole, nor the family that the beasts who lived within the Abbey seemed to be a part of. They were more concerned with themselves than any other beasts, and would gladly have accepted the loss of any other beast as long as they remained safe within Redwall. And many of the Redwallers were slowly moving toward the opinion that nobeast mattered but those who lived within the Abbey and agreed with their ways. Even Sister Rain, while not as opinionated as this, seemed to believe that Redwall should keep to itself and leave the rest of Mossflower Country to deal with its own problems.  
  
To Gormin, these ideas were foolish. Redwall had been built around the idea of unity, not only the unity of the beasts within it, but among all woodlanders. The beasts that suggested separating Redwall from the rest of Mossflower Country were going against this idea, and to Gormin's eye, without unity Redwall could not stand. The Abbey was almost a family, and it could not survive without the contribution of everybeast who lived within it. The current division between the Abbeybeasts was already causing tension between the Redwallers. What would happen when the division became more pronounced? And the beasts that were against separating Redwall from Mossflower were also fearful of dividing the Abbey from within, so they kept their opinions to themselves.  
  
Skipper, Gormin, and Abbess Elm were just three of the beasts that were forced to sit back and watch the Abbey split itself apart, helpless to do anything about it. Skipper's otters were almost completely united, but there were a few dissenters that made life difficult for him and the rest of the Abbey. Gormin could do nothing to help the Abbey, since the Redwallers barely acknowledged the fact that he was the warrior. And Abbess Elm was too cautious to risk further dividing Redwall by asking the beasts that lived in the Abbey to unite, as the beasts of Redwall used to.  
  
Gormin was almost certain that Cain, too, noticed the division among the beasts within Redwall. Even in his depression, he didn't ignore what was going on around him. As far as Gormin could tell, Cain had not done anything about it, but then, neither had anybeast else. Will anybeast step forward? thought Gormin.  
  
After a couple hours of marching, the Redwallers stopped to eat lunch. Instead of making the area around them comfortable, they either just sat on the ground or remained standing. Skipper and some of his otters stood around and talked, and Cain and Colin were still talking like they hadn't in seasons. Almost everybeast was mingling with their companions as if marching west was nothing unusual. The few who didn't mingle with the others and stuck to themselves were either the beasts who were dividing Redwall or Gormin himself. Other than Jacob, there were no beasts that went out of their way to talk to him unless they needed to.  
  
Today was an exception. Candice, the Long Patrol runner that had brought the news of the vermin horde to Redwall, approached Gormin with a smile. "I think I remember seein' you in the Stormrat War, but I don't think I ever got t' know y' too well. You're Gormin, Redwall's Champion, right? I'm Candice, a hare from Lord Rocketh's Long Patrol."  
  
"Pleased to meet you, Candice," said Gormin, reaching out a paw for the hare to shake. Although he wasn't very social, Gormin tried his hardest to be polite to other beasts. "I think we've met before, but I never got a chance to talk to you as much as I might have liked."  
  
"You'd want t' talk t' me?" asked Candice, seeming surprised and somewhat amused. "I'm just one o' Lord Rocketh's runners. You're the Champion o' Redwall. I haven't done any significant deeds in my life, so why would y' want to associate with me? I'm not interestin' in the least."  
  
Gormin chuckled. "You put on a good show of modesty. Your reputation speaks differently than you do at the moment. I've heard it said that you were the beast who first discovered the Stormrats' horde five seasons ago, and that without your warning Lord Sunforge would have been caught completely unaware. Were you, by any chance, the beast that proposed sending an emissary to Redwall at the beginning of the Stormrat War?"  
  
Candice laughed. "I was th' one who first saw the Stormrats, but I was an inexperienced Patroller explorin' out o' my way. Normally, I would've been punished, but th' war was more urgent, and after Lord Sunforge's death, nobody seemed t' remember. But I would've gladly served out whatever punishment he would've given me if it would bring 'im back. He was a great leader." Candice sighed, and then continued. "An' I wasn't the beast who proposed sendin' an emissary t' Redwall. Though I don't see anythin' wrong with embellishin' tales o' my own accomplishments, I believe in givin' credit where credit is due. It was Lord Sunforge who decided to send a beast to ask Redwall for help, an' I think he got the idea from one o' those prophecies Badger Lords seem t' get."  
  
Redwall's Champion nodded, fascinated. "I never heard that tale before. And there are some other things I'd like to ask you about. Is it true that you saved the life of Cain during the final battle of the Stormrat War? He's mentioned your name once and said that you saved him, but I was wondering if it was true."  
  
"It's true," said Candice, nodding her head. "Though it's really nothin' to brag about. Cain an' his wife were fightin' against a pair o' Stormrats, an' comin' close to beatin' them, I'd say. But another one o' their hordebeasts caught wind o' what those two mice were doin', and tried to sneak up behind 'em. I shoved a spear through the vermin, an' saved Cain an' Kelly. They went on t' kill the Stormrats they were fightin'. They were two o' the few that were killed before they decided t' turn back an' run."  
  
"So you weren't as much of a hero as Cain made you out to be," said Gormin quietly, shaking his head. When he saw Candice stiffen, he looked up at her and smiled. "No offense intended, ma'am. You still did more than I would expect from a hare new to the Long Patrol. I'm sorry if I've caused you any offense."  
  
"Well, it's sort o' offendin' to hear that you aren't as much of a hero as another beast expected y' to be," said Candice, sniffing. "If it were any beast other than th' Champion o' Redwall Abbey who said it t' me, I'd knock 'im to th' ground. I'm half tempted t' walk away right now."  
  
But Candice didn't walk away. She stayed and talked with him for the rest of the Redwallers' lunch break, and walked near the front with him when they resumed their march. Their conversation continued though the rest of the day, touching on their experiences in the Stormrat War, their homes, the beasts they lived with, and their views on the state of the world.  
  
"So you're sayin' that many Redwallers would rather let Salamandastron die than participate in a war?" asked Candice. Even though the hare kept her voice low, Gormin could see frustration and rage in her expression. "I thought that th' ballot Abbess Elm held was just a formality, t' make sure that there weren't any major objections. I know that there was great debate about it, but I thought that it was just a few beasts that objected. I had no idea that so many Redwallers are against war..." Candice looked back at the troops that were marching behind them. They were talking among themselves and didn't seem to notice her, but she eyed them warily anyway. "Will they fight for us?" she asked, looking up at Gormin for reassurance.  
  
The squirrel nodded. "I think they will. Even those that don't want to help Salamandastron wouldn't go against the will of the majority of Redwall. But it would be better if our efforts had the approval of the entire Abbey, rather than just the majority. A war like this needs support, and not many of it is left back at Redwall."  
  
Candice sighed. "At least you've got an army marching for Salamandastron. I'd urge you to move faster, but I don't think many of the beasts in your army would agree. We'll reach Salamandastron in the next couple days at this pace anyway, so there's no real reason to worry."  
  
Gormin and Candice walked in silence for a bit. The conversation of beasts behind them reached their ears, but they hardly noticed. Candice seemed distracted by thoughts of her own, and Gormin was thinking about Redwall. They'll never have me back, will they? I'll be gone from my position as Champion, and banished. I hope this war is worth the trouble.  
  
He finally broke the silence between him and Candice with a sigh. "After the war, I think Redwall will divide into two, or maybe even more, different factions. The beasts that truly wish for the good of all will be lost in this, and Redwall will turn into a place of selfish beasts that will be useless to the outside world, and may even end up destroying itself. And there's nothing I can do to stop it."  
  
Candice grasped his paw in hers and squeezed. "I'm sure you'll be able t' find a way t' turn Redwall back into the place it used to be. You're its Champion, after all. Some o' the beasts in th' Abbey must trust you, an' I'm sure they'll help y' if y' try t' unify 'em."  
  
Gormin smiled gratefully at Candice, and continued walking. After the marching beasts settled down to eat at dusk, and after most beasts had crawled into their beds and gone to sleep, Gormin lay awake. His mind was filled with thoughts of Candice. If only she was a squirrel, he thought miserably. Then, maybe, I could be with her.  
  
He slept restlessly that night, dreaming of the hare whenever he shut his eyes. Keeping them open was no better, since his thoughts always wandered to Candice, and how hopeless his love for her was. Finally, he let the dreams take him fully, not willing himself to wake up when they taunted him of his innermost desire - to be with the beast that he had fallen for, the beast he felt that he must have if he were to live in this world at all.  
  
~~~  
  
Luc awoke to complete darkness. His head was fuzzy and ached when he moved it, and he had difficulty keeping his thoughts straight. The young squirrel had no idea how long he stayed like this before he heard a voice in front of him. "You're awake?" it asked, and Luc had a vague impression of a beast leaning down in front of him. He tried to sort through his mind to find the name of this beast, but he was too confused. Is it... Gormin? he wondered, envisioning the beast that fit that name. No, he was a warrior, and his voice was different from this one's. It was... the Abbey recorder... Jacob.  
  
"Jacob?" Luc asked, and was surprised to find that his throat was dry and his speech was slurred. Memories came back to him, waking up before to Jacob's presence and being given tea to drink. "You gave me... tea?"  
  
The recorder nodded. "Yes. It was supposed to keep you asleep for a few days, and it looks like it did the job. You'll be a bit drowsy and uncomfortable for a while, so you might want to go back to sleep. But I should probably get you something to drink, first."  
  
"No tea," said Luc, raising his paws as if to defend himself. Jacob must have seen the motion through the dark, because he reached out one of his own paws and placed it on the younger squirrel's shoulder.  
  
"I'm done keeping you drugged," said Jacob, and there was guilt in the recorder's voice. "I wouldn't have done it in the first place, but it seemed necessary at the time, and there was no turning back once we had begun. And it still seems necessary now, I guess, though I wouldn't exactly call it the right thing to do. I'll get you some water now." Luc heard Jacob walk away to another part of the gatehouse, and heard liquid flowing. It better not be some of that drugged tea, the squirrel thought angrily. If it is, I'll kill him.  
  
That thought brought back memories of recent days to Luc. He saw the ferret he had killed, the beast falling to the ground, killed by his dagger. He remembered seeing the dead body, and thinking of what he had taken away from the world, the life of a beast he didn't even know. It might have been a vermin, but did that make the murder any less of a crime? What other beasts would be affected by the ferret's death? Would they even know that the ferret had died?  
  
Luc felt tears begin to run down his face, as they had after he killed the ferret and on his journey back to Redwall. In his tears, he felt the bitter truth of the matter - he had killed a beast, and there was no way that he would be able to do it again. Not if it felt like this. At that moment, Luc knew that he could never be a warrior, and he was glad. I will never kill another beast, the young mouse vowed, feeling his heart tighten. I'm done with murder.  
  
When Jacob arrived with a glass in his paws, he heard Luc's muffled sobs and crouched down beside the squirrel, reaching out a paw to comfort him. "Cry, let it out," he murmured, pressing the cup in Luc's paw. "Let it out, and get back to sleep. Things will be clearer in the morning."  
  
He nodded and drank from the cup Jacob had given him. To his relief, it was water, not any of the tea that Jacob had been giving him whenever he woke up from his drugged sleep. He gulped it down eagerly, letting it sooth his parched throat. His tears didn't stop, even when he gave the cup back to Jacob and leaned his head back against the wooden chair he was sitting on. The last thing he felt before drifting to sleep, a natural sleep this time, not a drugged one, was the sensation of tears flowing down his face.  
  
After Luc had fallen asleep, he dreamed of ferrets, blood, daggers, and Jacob. The taste of the tea that the Abbey recorder had used to keep him asleep haunted his dreams, and he was unable to get rid of it. He tossed and turned in the chair he was sleeping in, though he didn't know it from the depths of sleep. After a seemingly endless amount of time, a shadowy figure stepped forward out of his dreams.  
  
The beast seemed to come right out of the tapestry that was hanging in Great Hall, except for the fact that he wore no armor and bore no sword. The figure of Martin the Warrior stood in front of Luc is his dream, and beckoned him forward with one paw. Compelled by some will other than his own, Luc was unable to do anything but follow.  
  
Martin led him wordlessly through an expanse of his dreams, toward the figure of a squirrel. When Martin and Luc got close, the young squirrel could see that the mouse was Gormin. "A good warrior," said the shadow of Martin. His voice was clear, but distant, and it seemed to Luc that the warrior mouse was speaking from some other world. "But he doesn't get the respect he deserves from most beasts. He strives to put this Abbey back together, but he doesn't show it enough to the beasts who live here. He's too solitary, and at this time Redwall needs a charismatic leader. Gormin may see the light, but he won't have the chance to change himself in time to get the approval of the beasts in this Abbey."  
  
"Why does the Abbey need a warrior other than Gormin?" Luc asked. Even though Gormin had seemed distant from the rest of the Abbey, Luc had thought that he was the best Champion Redwall could have. Except for some of the beasts of legend, who were already long dead.  
  
"Because times are changing," said Martin. "Redwall is splitting apart. I care for everybeast within this Abbey, but their fate is sealed if they turn on each other. We need a leader, and there are only two beasts in this world who fit the role. I'd like you to help one of them, either of them, become the Champion of Redwall."  
  
A sensation of being tugged suddenly overcame Luc, and he felt as if he should leave Martin's company. It wasn't unpleasant, but he felt that if he resisted the tug for too long, it would begin to hurt.  
  
"Who are they?" asked Luc. "I can't see anybeast that's alive now other than Gormin as the Champion of Redwall. Maybe Cain, but he doesn't seem good enough of a leader. Who would be better than Gormin?"  
  
"The qualifications of one of the beasts are too obvious to miss. He's traveling to Redwall from his home in the east even as you dream. He doesn't know what's in store for him, but he's an honorable beast and would not pass up the chance to help another." Martin smiled again. "And the other beast might not seem like much of a warrior compared to this one, but he'll prove himself as great a beast eventually."  
  
Luc nodded his understanding. "Can I go now?" he asked. He didn't want to offend the warrior mouse, but the tugging had become more urgent. He felt as if his entire being was being tugged at, and while it still didn't hurt, it was steadily becoming more unpleasant, and he was sure that pain would come soon if he didn't leave.  
  
Martin nodded. "You'll remember this when the first warrior comes. You might not ever remember talking to me, but... you will know what you need to. Live a good life, Luc, and don't succumb to temptation and treachery." And then Luc felt himself being pulled away from Martin.  
  
The sensation of waking up was like nothing he had experienced before. When his eyes opened, he was fully aware, without any of the drowsiness that usually plagued him when he woke up. He felt as if his mind had been working hard while he was asleep, and cast about his mind for any memories of dreaming. But the only thing he remembered after falling asleep was a sensation of falling right before he woke up.  
  
"Nice to see you awake, finally," said Ellen, looking down at him and smirking. "Did you hit your head while you were dreaming? I probably spent five minutes here trying to wake you up."  
  
"Shut up, Ellen," said Luc, getting to his feet and smiling. "You can't stop a beast from getting the rest he needs."  
  
"The sleep you need?" asked Ellen incredulously. "I don't know if you know this, but you just spent about two days sleeping in that chair. That should be all the sleep anybeast needs to at least wake up in the morning! And in the name of Martin, youngbeasts are supposed to be the perky! You have no excuse to have been sleeping for so long! The rest of Redwall has had breakfast already, and Jacob, Kiran, and Retherin are telling Abbess Elm why he kept us in here against our will."  
  
"Why aren't you with them?" asked Luc. "You would be able to tell her how you and I were involved better than the otters or Jacob could. I'm sure the Abbess would like to hear our point of view as well."  
  
"You expect me to be down there with them? I just woke up about fifteen minutes ago, and Retherin told me to keep an eye on you while he went down with Jacob and Kiran. I would've went with them if I hadn't been afraid of how frightened you would be if you woke up and found yourself all alone." Ellen grinned mockingly at Luc, and held up her paws to fend off any physical retort her friend might've had.  
  
"Well, what are we supposed to do now that I'm awake?" asked Luc, looking around. "I'm starving, and I'd like to see my father and tell him what happened. Unless Jacob told us to stay around here. I'm sure he knows what he's doing, since he's the one who drugged us." Luc was sure of no such thing, but since Jacob was the beast who had done this, so he was the most likely to have things planned out. And Jacob was the type of beast that wouldn't harm a fellow Redwaller unless there was nothing else he could do. There had to be a reason for what Jacob had done.  
  
But Ellen didn't seem to think as highly of the recorder squirrel as Luc did. "I don't care what his reasons were. He doesn't know a thing about herbology. If he had used the wrong sort of substance to drug us, we might be dead now. As Sister Rain says, abusing medical practices for any purpose is inexcusable."  
  
"In case you've forgotten, I'm the apprentice recorder, and I know Jacob better than you." Luc glared at his friend as he said this, and clenched his paw into a fist to get the point across. "He would never harm another Redwaller if he could help it, and even drugging us is something of a stretch for him."  
  
Ellen and Luc glared at each other for a few moments. Surprisingly, it was Ellen who backed down first. She took a seat, and taking Luc's paw, dragged him down next to her. "There's something wrong with the atmosphere of this place," she said quietly, looking around the gatehouse and listening to the sounds outside. "There are still beasts out there, but they're not making the amount of noise they usually do. And I have a bad feeling..." Ellen shook her head. "Sister Rain told me never to trust anything other than fact, but I'm not so sure. I'm almost positive that something happened while we were sleeping here."  
  
"I guess we'll have to wait until Jacob comes and explains things to us," said Luc, leaning back in his chair. Ellen groaned, and Luc smiled. "I know it'll probably be boring for you, but we can keep ourselves entertained." Luc pointed at a stack of papers with no obvious organization sitting in a corner of the room. "We could read through those and help Jacob organize them. There are bound to be some interesting stories in there."  
  
Ellen groaned again. "I bet that they're records from some boring time in history. And helping the beast that drugged me is one of the last things I want to do."  
  
But at Luc's urging, Ellen stood and walked over to the corner with him, and they began to page through the papers. The stories were new to both of them; Ellen didn't bother to read through Redwall's histories, and even though Luc was the apprentice recorder and was instructed to read as well as write, he knew only a fraction of what had occurred in days gone by. Soon, both young squirrels were immersed in stories of Redwall's past, and they were enjoying every minute of their reading. 


	11. Chapter Eleven

Attacks from the Long Patrol had been frequent, but due to the Stormbringer's leadership, losses had been far less than the first one, and they were able to drive off the hares each time. They had been unable to kill any more hares, but they were keeping the Patrollers at a distance, and were marching steadily toward Salamandastron.  
  
Danni walked up front with the Stormbringer, who seemed to be in a good mood that morning. They were a few paces ahead of every other beast, and all the vermin in this horde knew to leave the Stormbringer and his mate alone when they wanted privacy. He wore his cloak with the hood down, letting the wind sweep though fur that was almost as magnificent as his brother's. But he was nowhere near as muscular as Meist, and he was far less savage in both appearance and habit. Whereas Meist was built for combat, with a lust for battle and a mind suited for almost nothing other than killing, rage, and taking orders, the Stormbringer was a sly Stormrat. It was he who thought up the horde's battle plans, and his fighting style revolved around deception and stealth rather than brute force. But he wasn't afraid to fight an enemy in single combat, and probably stood a more than fair chance of besting the greatest of any woodlander.  
  
"Nice day, isn't it, Danni?" asked the Stormbringer, smiling from beside her. He swept a paw around her waist and looked up at the blue sky. "I wish it were like this all the time. I promise you that when we've destroyed the Long Patrol and have captured Salamandastron and Redwall, we'll have many peaceful days like this. Remember the time we spent together a few seasons ago? I'd like to do that again..."  
  
"So would I, Stormbringer," she said, smiling back at him. When she was with him, it was like they were in their own little world. If it hadn't been for his obligation to avenge the death of the other Stormrats, she was sure that they would be spending their life together somewhere quiet, instead of as a part of a vermin horde. But she was happy here, too, as long as he was there.  
  
The Stormrat laughed. "You don't have to be so formal with me when there aren't any other beasts around to hear you," he said quietly, looking into her eyes. "I'd ask you to call me by my name all the time, but discipline needs to be maintained in my horde. But we're along now, Danni, and there's nothing to stop you from saying whatever you want to say."  
  
"Well then, Sunai, let me say that after all this is through, I want to live away from battle for the rest of my life, with you by my side." Danni spun her dagger into the air and caught it with her paw, and her expression hardened. "And if anybeast gets in the way of that, they'll have a dagger through their throat."  
  
Sunai grinned. "And they'd have my Stormbringer through their heart in no time at all. I wish I didn't have to do this, but I honestly think that if I didn't avenge my father's death, he'd haunt me. And I loved the rest of the Stormrats - not the way I loved you, but I still loved them. It would be an injustice to let their murderers go unpunished."  
  
"You never told me how they died, Sunai," said Danni cautiously. When she and the Stormrat had met, and eventually gotten to know each other, he had mentioned that his family had been murdered, and mentioned his father's death with marked fury. But he had never told her anything specific about his father, and hadn't told her how he died. She had avoided bringing up the subject even though she was naturally curious about it, but it had nagged at her for a while now. And this seemed like a good time to bring it up if there was ever going to be one.  
  
The Stormbringer was silent for several minutes, and Danni was afraid that she had offended him. She waited in silence for a few moments, afraid of provoking his wrath. But when Sunai spoke, his voice was low and sad, and only vaguely angry. Danni got the impression that his anger was not directed at her.  
  
"My father was first in line to be commander of the Stormrat horde if the leader were to die. He was a fierce warrior, not as strong as my brother, but quick, cunning, and clever. He took it upon himself to play a major part in the siege of Salamandastron." Sunai smiled and touched the sword at his belt. "I was one of the rats that he assigned to keep watch. I was too young to be much good in a fight, but he said that I'd be an excellent sentry. I took offense, but I did my duty well. No hare got through our defensive lines while I was on duty."  
  
"It was when I was getting off sentry duty and a ferret named Klaze was taking up the position that I was leaving that the beasts within Salamandastron finally made their move. They must have been watching us for a while, because they attacked the area where I was supposed to be watching just as I ended my shift. I managed to alert the rest of the camp, but they were slow in waking up. The badger slew about a score of our beasts before every one of us was fully awake.  
  
"My father and two other Stormrats attacked the badger. The others organized the horde and attacked the hares and woodlanders. At the time, I bore a small blade, much smaller than my Stormbringer. I would have fought alongside the rest of the horde, but I realized that a swordsbeast of my size and experience would do little good to my companions. But I didn't run and hide. Instead, I picked up a bow and a quiver of arrows from a dead beast and hid in the shadows. I wasn't the best archer, but I managed to kill six hares before the battle was brought to a finish." From Sunai's exactness and the fire that burned in his eyes, Danni could tell that his memory of the battle had not faded with time.  
  
"It was my father who managed to drive off the Stormrats. He scored the killing blow on the Badger Lord, and after that, the hares and woodlanders were quick to retreat. But at the battle's end, he found me in the shadows with my bow and arrow. I was already ashamed that I had gone to hide instead of drawing my sword, but he said he understood that. He had come to ask why I had not spotted the attack force when it came." He closed his eyes, but continued to walk and speak. "I said that I hadn't paid attention beyond the time my watch had ended. He said that what I said was the answer he would expect from a common soldier, not a Stormrat. He didn't punish me, but he told me to carry my sword with me at all times and assigned me another hour of practice sparring each day, even though we were placing a fortress under siege. He told me that a warrior should be vigilant at all times, and recommended that I stay out of combat until I was able to sense anybeast that might be sneaking up on me before they attacked. Needless to say, I could develop those skills quickly enough to be any assistance in the war."  
  
Sunai's expression turned bitter. "But the worst part of the Stormrat War for me wasn't my failure to keep watch, nor was it our hasty march into Mossflower. It was when our horde was caught between two armies, and my father led a group of vermin to attack the army of hares and woodlanders. Nobeast on our side expected the hares to recognize him as the Stormrat who killed their Lord Sunforge, but at least one of the hares did. They swarmed him and the beasts who were with him, and killed every one of his companions. He slew many of the hares, but in the end, they closed around him so tightly that he couldn't move to fight, and one of them murdered him with a dagger through his heart.  
  
"If I hadn't been ordered to stay away from the battle, I would've helped him. If I knew how to fight like I did today, I would've attacked the hares regardless of his orders." Sunai drew Stormbringer from its sheath, and slashed it through the air in front of him. He held the sword with both paws, and it moved with swiftness and careful control. "But I sat and waited as far away from the fighting as I could get, as I was ordered to, and when the order came to retreat, I went."  
  
"Meist and I were the only Stormrats who made it to the ships. We ran for days, and the few vermin who survived ran the last distance out of desperation. I only survived because most of the vermin were between our pursuers and myself, and because I was stronger than the average vermin. Meist survived on brute strength alone, even though he had been fighting against the Guosim and the beasts of Mossflower since the beginning of the battle. We passed out when we made it to the ships, and if it hadn't been for a vixen who had stayed behind with the ships' guards when our horde left the ships, neither of us would've made it." Sunai rubbed his chest with his paw. "I thought my heart would burst, and if it hadn't been for her, it would've. She managed to slow it down, I'm not sure how. A pity that my brother killed her when he woke up. Many of the vermin on the ship he was on ended up dead, all because of his Bloodwrath."  
  
"I'm glad you survived," said Danni gently, smiling at her mate. She fingered her dagger, and wondered if the vixen he had mentioned had even tried to defend herself against Meist. That won't happen to me, she vowed. There's no way a beast that stupid will kill me, no matter what state of mind he's in. "What happened between then and the time you came to my village?"  
  
"I took command of the beasts that remained. Less than threescore, not including the oarslaves. But we managed to capture several vessels and recruit some of the beasts aboard them to our cause. The original ships' captains were killed and replaced with beasts I could trust, and any rebels were bound, weighted, and tossed into the sea. After we had about two hundred beasts in our fleet, we sailed far south along the coast. We landed west of your village, and came there after crossing over a range of mountains."  
  
Danni smiled. "The Kariha Mountains. My village's sorcerers' used to make sacrifices to the spirits of that mountain. I always thought that was foolish, but they always seemed to get the results they wanted so nobeast questioned them. To this day, I still can't figure out how they did their tricks."  
  
"I honestly don't think they were tricks, Danni," said Sunai, thinking back to the day his army had reached the village. Mice and squirrels lived in slavery against their will, but it seemed that there was no way for them to escape the sorcerers' clutches. And every vermin in the village lived in fear of the sorcerers' wrath. It was their fear that had inspired Sunai to free them. But somehow, the sorcerers had learned of Sunai's plan. When his army slept outside the village, they crept into his camp and managed to kill twoscore beasts before anybody noticed. To this day, Sunai could not explain how they had gotten past his sentries. The only explanation he could think of was magic.  
  
But even magic couldn't stop his horde from capturing the village, and killing all beasts that did not swear obedience to him. Except for Danni, who refused to be treated as anything but an equal by the beasts in his horde. Originally, he had resisted her attempts to gain a higher rank in his horde, but since she was skilled in healing, he had allowed her to become the head healer. And when she convinced beasts Sunai's horde met on its journey to join the horde, he grudgingly gave her a position as one of his advisers. It was only after that point that he had fallen in love with her.  
  
"What else could they have been?" asked Danni. She was a vixen skilled not only in healing, but in the art of deception. She knew that what most beasts thought of as magic was actually sleight of paw or mind tricks. Even when she was young and raised in a village filled with the fear of sorcerers, she didn't believe that they could actually use magic to harm the villagers. Poison and assassins, certainly, and maybe some roots and herbs that caused beasts to die sudden deaths.  
  
"Magic," said Sunai simply. Seeing the doubt in his mate's face, he held out Stormbringer to her. "I forged this sword using magic metals from the hut of one of the sorcerers that ruled your village. I would've been unable to shape this metal at all if they hadn't left records of their studies. Unfortunately, only the one I used to forge this sword and one other survived. But this metal is unbreakable unless you know how to break it. Any other sword pales in comparison to this one."  
  
Danni still doubted Sunai's words, thinking that the sorcerers must have tricked him somehow. But Sunai is as sly as any fox, and more cunning than most of them. I can't think of anything that would trick him... so could he be right?  
  
The vixen pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind, and Sunai sheathed Stormbringer. "Only a day's march until we reach Salamandastron," he said, his eyes gleaming in anticipation. "I'll see every last one of those Long Patrol hares dead."  
  
~~~  
  
"Abbess Elm and Jacob want to see us?" asked Ellen, looking up from the book she and Luc were hunched over to glare at Retherin. Even though he wasn't the one who had decided to take the two young squirrels away from their sanctuary in the gatehouse, they were both annoyed at the interruption. Luc took it well, since he read a lot and a few hours wouldn't matter. But he could tell that Ellen was more angry than even her extreme annoyance was letting on.  
  
"You can always read another time, Ellen," said Luc, placing a paw on Ellen's shoulder. The squirrelmaid glared at him and seemed about to snap at him. But she got a hold of her emotions and nodded in assent. But she seemed downcast, and more than a bit disappointed.  
  
"There's some other news, too," said Retherin. "The reason we were drugged is that Gormin, Cain, and Jacob wanted to sway the votes of the beasts here towards going to war rather than staying at Redwall and defending it. Jacob says that if the rest of Redwall learned of what happened to us out in Mossflower, the vote would probably have been swayed against war. I think he's right. But that doesn't make what he did right..."  
  
"War?" asked Luc, confused. "What's this about war? When we left Redwall, there wasn't any talk about war with anybeast? What happened?"  
  
"Remember the hare that came to Redwall on the stormy night? She brought a message from Lord Rocketh at Salamandastron asking us to send warriors to help them fight off a horde led by a Stormrat. Gormin and Cain realized when they saw us at the gates that if we told the rest of Redwall what happened with the ferrets, the vote would go against sending beasts to war. They convinced Jacob to keep us drugged here in the gatehouse until the vote had passed." Retherin shook his head and sighed. "My friends... the otters that died, their parents already left with Skipper. Abbess Elm has already said that she'll have Cain and Gormin exiled when they return from the war."  
  
Luc's eyes widened. "What about Jacob? Has the Abbess said what she plans to do to Jacob?"  
  
"I don't think she's going to exile him," said Retherin. "Even though he was the beast who drugged us, he says that it was Cain who came up with the plan and the concoction that kept us asleep and that it was Jacob who convinced him to keep us asleep. Jacob says that he is just as much to blame as the rest of them, but the Abbess doesn't agree with him."  
  
Luc was certain that both Ellen and Retherin could detect his relief at that, but neither of them said anything. After a short silence, Ellen stood up from the books she was hunched over and turned toward the door. "Let's go, Luc. If the Abbess wants to see us, there has to be a reason." Luc stood too, and followed Ellen out the door after she cast a glare at Retherin. The otter looked offended, but followed the squirrels out of the gatehouse.  
  
Most of the beasts that the trio ran into on their way to Cavern Hole looked at them curiously, but seeing Ellen's bad temper and the whole group's urgency, they let them move without stopping them or questioning them. Retherin and Ellen walked past the tapestry of Martin without so much as a glance. Luc, though, stopped and started at the mouse until Ellen yelled for him to keep walking.  
  
In Cavern Hole, Jacob was seated across the table from Abbess Elm, Sister Rain, and a hard-faced otter. Kiran stood beside Jacob, gazing solemnly at the Abbess, Sister Rain, and the otter. Jacob was gazing sullenly at the table, and Sister Rain and the otter were glaring at him. The Abbess's expression was neutral, but Luc could somehow tell that she was doing her best to maintain the peace between the beasts in Cavern Hole.  
  
"Finally, we'll have a fresh point of view!" exclaimed Sister Rain, turning to look at the squirrels. Her eyes lit up when she saw Ellen. "Thank gosh you're safe, my friend!" she said dramatically, getting out of her chair and spreading her arms out toward Ellen.  
  
Ellen had always seemed to respect Sister Rain. Not only had she volunteered freely to be the apprentice Infirmary Keeper, she had seemed to enjoy every minute of it, aside from the extra chores that she tried to get Andrew and Luc to help her with. But when she answered Sister Rain, her voice was full of disdain.  
  
"I'm glad you were worried, Sister. Every squirrelmaid needs a bigger beast to take care of her." Luc might have passed off her annoyance at her bad mood, but there was something in her eyes that told him that it was directed specifically at Sister Rain.  
  
"Just because I'm a healer doesn't mean I'm better than any other beast in this Abbey," continued Ellen angrily. Luc's eyes widened in surprise; that was not something he would expect to hear from someone as headstrong as Ellen. "There are plenty of beasts here that are just as sensible as you are, Sister. I'm sick of sitting in the Infirmary and listening to you degrade everybody else in this Abbey! I'm not putting up with it anymore! I quit!"  
  
Sister Rain broke the shocked silence that followed with her screeching protests. "You ungrateful brat! I never said anything like that! And even if I had, there's no way you could keep your mouth shut about it this long!"  
  
The beasts in Cavern Hole stared at Sister Rain and Ellen. Luc's eyes widened as he heard his friend's words; he had no doubt that she spoke the truth. Sister Rain was the type of beast that would consider herself above others just because she was the Infirmary Keeper and knew more about healing than she did. Thinking back, he remembered that Ellen had often been in a sour mood when she came out of the Infirmary, even though she tried her best to hide it from everybeast. But why was she discrediting Sister Rain now, rather than some other time?  
  
"Ungrateful? Should I be grateful to you for trying to turn me against the rest of Redwall?" Ellen glared at Sister Rain, and Luc heard something in Ellen's words that spoke volumes to him, though he couldn't place what it was.  
  
"That's enough!" said Abbess Elm sharply, rapping her paw on the table. "We will keep this discussion civilized! Ellen, there is no excuse to speak to your elders as you did, especially in the presence of other Redwallers. And Sister Rain, I thought you had better self control than you've shown here. Now let us get to the matter at hand. Luc, you and Ellen departed for a journey into Mossflower Wood. Why?"  
  
"Sister Rain told Ellen to go pick some herbs for her, and she wanted me to come along with her," said Luc.  
  
"And what did you do from there?" asked the otter, who Luc now recognized as a beast name Kyle. "Kiran and Retherin were able to tell us how they ran into you, but why were you in their path?"  
  
"We rested up a bit, and then started walking home," said Ellen, speaking before Luc could open his mouth. He glanced at his friend, but she didn't seem to notice. "Kiran and Retherin met us on the path we were following, and when we ended up hiding in the bushes, we heard the ferrets talk about eating the two otters they had slain."  
  
Sister Rain glared at Jacob, long and hard. The recorder was able to meet her gaze, but not without flinching. The Infirmary Keeper's face was like poison to look at, and the fury she was showing would have been enough to make a beast explode. "You drugged these beasts and made them stay in your crummy gatehouse after they went through all that? You call yourself a Redwaller?"  
  
"He did the best he could do!" said Luc, leaping to his mentor's defense. Jacob looked over at him, and gave him a small smile in gratitude. "What else was he supposed to do? Let the Long Patrol die and leave Mossflower defenseless? And it wasn't he who made the decision to drug us. It was Gormin, and Cain. And they can't really be faulted, either, for taking steps to secure a single decision from a divided Abbey."  
  
"What do you mean, divided Abbey?" asked Sister Rain. "This Abbey is as united as it has ever been. Just as long as everybeast lets Abbess Elm and us older beasts do as we know best, nothing will go wrong." The Infirmary Keeper glared at Ellen. "Don't you tell me what I should and shouldn't do, little girl. I'm older than you, I've been alive longer, and I am..."  
  
"Sister Rain, either leave, or I'll have Kyle take you out of here." Abbess Elm glared at Sister Rain, and the healer bowed her head and walked out of Cavern Hole. Luc looked at Ellen and tried to read her expression, but other than disgust, he couldn't see anything in her face that he could understand.  
  
"Luc, Ellen, Kiran, and Retherin, it will be up to each of you to decide what will happen to Jacob," said Abbess Elm. "Tell Kyle and I what you think his punishment should be."  
  
"What about Gormin and Cain?" asked Kiran.  
  
"Their punishments have already been decided," answered Abbess Elm. "Those two will be exiled from the Abbey. But since Jacob was the beast who kept you drugged, we think that you should decide his punishment. Remember that while your answers may be debated by other beasts, they will determine Jacob's fate. This isn't a game. Do each of you understand the seriousness of what you're being asked to do?"  
  
All four youngbeasts nodded solemnly. "Alright then, let us begin. Luc, you first. What do you believe Jacob's punishment should be?"  
  
"I don't think he should be punished," said Luc. His decision was based mostly on the fact that he liked the recorder, but he felt that if he based his decision completely on that, he would be ridiculed by the other beasts. "He did what he thought was best for Redwall, and there is no shame in that. If I were able, I would lessen Gormin and Cain's sentences as well." The words began flowing from somewhere outside of Luc; from where, he could not guess. "They were trying to find a way around the division within this Abbey, and if they could've united the Abbey and convinced them to go to war, they would have. But they couldn't, and they did the next best thing - leading beasts east for the good of Mossflower Country and Salamandastron. Their methods may have been dishonorable, but if the Abbey was not divided into separate factions, they wouldn't have had to do what they did."  
  
"You say this Abbey is divided into factions?" asked Abbess Elm, looking concerned. "What makes you think this, Luc? Is there any evidence that Redwall is splitting apart?"  
  
"There's Sister Lane, and the way she was acting before you told her to leave. You might not think I have the right to criticize the actions of one of my elders, but I think that she's completely wrong in the way she thinks. I don't doubt that what Ellen was accusing her of saying was actually said. Other than that... I don't have anything else to back up my thoughts, but somehow I know." Luc felt confused, but there was a strong feeling within him, almost like a memory, that told him he was right. "I didn't think this before, but I know now."  
  
"The ballot was almost too close to call, and that says something on its own. In the past, Redwallers would stick together and support each other, even when they didn't approve of the actions of the Abbey." Jacob looked up sadly He hadn't been invited to speak, but something compelled him to explain his actions. "Without Salamandastron in the way of the vermin horde, this Abbey would almost certainly perish. There is nobeast who could unite all of Redwall into one present either here at the Abbey or with the warriors marching east. At first I didn't think that Gormin, Cain, and I were doing the right thing, but now I see that it's the straightest path, even if what we must do may go against somebeasts."  
  
"I agree with Luc," said Ellen. "And Jacob. Sister Rain tried to convince me that I was better than the other beasts living here in Redwall, and I was tempted to believe her. But I knew better than that. Before my parents died, they taught me that everybeast is born equal, and unless they do something that would take away their right to be called a goodbeast, they stay that way. Jacob should not be punished, since he, Gormin, and Cain were merely trying to overcome the division that beasts like Sister Rain were trying to create."  
  
Luc had never heard Ellen speak so calmly before, but was glad of it now. So far, there were two beasts voting to let Jacob walk free.  
  
Kiran shattered Luc's hopes, though. "I can't forgive Jacob for hidin' the deaths of my mates from their families. After they've beaten back the vermin horde and come home victorious, they'll expect t' be greeted by their children. But instead of a happy greeting, they'll find that their young 'uns are dead, murdered by ferrets. Doin' that to a beast is an unforgivable crime, an' although it was the ferrets who killed my friends, the three beasts who plotted to conceal their deaths from the rest of the Abbey only made the pain worse. I ask that Jacob be exiled from Redwall, and commanded never to return." After glaring menacingly at the recorder, he looked toward the wall and kept his gaze away from the rest of the proceedings.  
  
Retherin was the last beast to cast his vote. "I agree with Kiran that Jacob increased the pain of my mateys' families, and for that, he cannot be easily forgiven. But as Luc has said, they did the right thing. I ask that Jacob be confined to his gatehouse until his accomplices return and are punished."  
  
Abbess Elm agreed immediately with Retherin. "Young otter, your solution seems to be the most reasonable that I've heard. Recorder Jacob, you are ordered to remain in the gatehouse until Gormin and Cain are sentenced. You will not step outside its walls. Once you are freed from your confinement, your trial will be held anew, before the entire Abbey."  
  
Jacob smiled sadly. "I'll be getting back to the gatehouse, then. I know that what Gormin, Cain, and I did was wrong, but I still believe that we took the best path possible." Then he stood, and walked for the stairs of Cavern Hole.  
  
After a few moments of hesitation, Luc hurried after him. The other beasts in Cavern Hole seemed surprised, but he didn't stop running until he had caught up with Jacob. "I'm sorry," the recorder mumbled when Luc came up beside him. "If I could think of any other way, I would not have kept you drugged."  
  
"I forgive you," said Luc. "It doesn't make what you did right, but it should ease your conscience a bit. Let's organize those records in the gatehouse. They've been gathering dust for quite a while."  
  
Luc and Jacob had only spent a few minutes on this task when Ellen joined them. Luc looked up at her, and was pleased to see her smile at him. "Let me give you two a hand," she muttered, and set about sorting through Redwall's histories. 


	12. Chapter Twelve

The attack came before dawn. A searat who was on sentry duty shouted a warning, and in an instant, Sunai was up on his footpaws. Danni, who had been sleeping beside him, was up a second later, with a dagger in her paw. "Where?" she asked, looking around the camp, trying to find the place where the shout was coming from. Sunai pointed toward the place where his warriors and the Long Patrol were beginning to fight, and picked up Stormbringer with his other paw.  
  
It only took a few seconds for the Stormrat and his mate to make their way over to the fight. Sunai let out a howl and lunged at a hare, bringing Stormbringer down on him with both paws. His foe brought up his javelin to block the blow, but there was enough force behind Sunai's blow that the hare's weapon didn't stop it. Stormbringer cleaved though the javelin and sliced through the hare. The beast dropped to the ground, its eyes wide in shock.  
  
By this time, most of the vermin in the camp were getting their bearings. Weapons in paw, they were making their way over to where their comrades were fighting off the hares.  
  
"Attack!" yelled Sunai, seeing that the hares were getting ready to withdraw. The hare that he assumed was their leader was shouting. Sunai couldn't hear what he was saying over the din of battle, but whenever he had done that in his previous attacks, the hares had retreated soon afterward. "Don't hold back! Kill as many of them as you can before they escape!"  
  
Those of his beasts that heard him charged into the fray, trying their best to slay the retreating hares. A few fell to the blades of Sunai's soldiers, but most were able to draw back. Sunai clenched his jaw; he wasn't going to let those hares escape without a fight. He shoved forward through the vermin around him, intent on killing at least a few of the hares before they managed to get away. His troops, seeing their leader making his way forward, cleared a path for him so he would be able to reach the retreating hares.  
  
Sunai leaped out at the nearest Long Patroller, swinging Stormbringer in an arc toward the hare's neck. Her eyes widened in fear, and she lifted up her paws feebly in a futile attempt to ward off the blow. But there was nothing she could do. Stormbringer severed her head from her shoulders, and Sunai and his sword flew on toward his next victim.  
  
"There's another Stormrat!" yelled one of the hares, stopping his retreat and pointing at Sunai. "It ain't the brute, it's another one!" The hare hefted his spear in his paw, and lunged toward Sunai. He brought Stormbringer up to block the blow, and swept his sword toward the hare. The beast leaped back, and kicked out at Sunai with one of his footpaws. This one's good, thought Sunai admiringly. A pity I'm better than he is.  
  
But before Sunai's fight could continue his fight with the hare, another hare leaped between the combatants. Sunai recognized him as the leader of the hares that had been harassing his horde as they made their way to Salamandastron. "Run!" the hare leader yelled to the beast he had just rescued. "Get everybeast back to Salamandastron, and tell Lord Rocketh about this! He needs to know that there's another Stormrat!"  
  
The hare looked as if he were about to object, but the hare leader shoved him away. Then, he turned to face Sunai, gripping a dirk tightly in his paw. "It was you who ambushed me an' th' rest o' my patrol," he said, his voice filled with anger. "I'll send y' to Dark Forest for that, y' stinkin' vermin. An' if y' manage t' kill me, Lord Rocketh'll see you dead."  
  
Sunai laughed viciously. He thought of his father, who had died to hares, and the rest of the Stormrats, who were dead because of Salamandastron. If that mountain wasn't there, the Stormrat War would've been won easily. But the hares of the Long Patrol and Lord Sunforge had forced the Stormrats to take their attention away from Mossflower and focus on this stronger threat. He had a reason to hate hares, and no matter what this hare here said, only the death of all those hares in Salamandastron would satisfy Sunai's desire for vengeance.  
  
"I don't plan to die by your paw, nor that of your lord. Salamandastron will fall to my horde, and you'll see my triumph from Dark Forest." Sunai laughed again, and raised Stormbringer above his head. "Don't worry about your comrades. I'll give them quick deaths, and send them to join you!"  
  
The hare leader looked behind him at his retreating troops. Sunai saw his gaze and grinned. "Danni! Take two score beasts and chase after those hares! Kill any stragglers, but don't risk anyone in open battle!" The Stormrat smirked at the Long Patrol hare. "You can't save them. So try to kill me!"  
  
"You'll pay for that, vermin!" said the hare, lunging forward and swinging his dirk at Sunai. The Stormrat leaped away from the hare's blow, and swung Stormbringer up from the ground toward him. The hare leaped away, and howled in rage.  
  
Behind Sunai, Danni and a group of vermin surged forward, chasing after the retreating hares. They went around Sunai and the hare, knowing better than to interrupt their leader while he was fighting. Sunai could hear his brother growling in the group that was going forward, but didn't bother to look. Meist knew that Sunai liked to fight some battles alone, and while he may have had a taste combat, he knew better than to cross his brother.  
  
The hare charged forward again, dodging Stormbringer as Sunai swept it toward him. Holding the sword was beginning to strain his muscles, but he didn't let it show. Ever since he had forged his sword, he had been aware of its weight, and had trained himself to keep fighting with it even when doing so became straining. Sunai lifted the sword and brought it between himself and the hare to deflect a blow from the hare's dirk. The hare dropped his dirk and landed on the ground, and launched himself forward with his paws, aiming a swift kick toward Sunai's stomach.  
  
Sunai dropped Stormbringer to the ground and let the hare's footpaws hit him in the stomach and carry him to the ground. The hare and Stormrat both struggled to stand. Sunai was the first up on his footpaws, and he lunged at the hare and brought him down to the ground. The hare struggled underneath him, but couldn't break free of the Stormrat's grasp. "I'll kill you!" bit our Sunai in anger. He wrapped his paws around the hare's neck and squeezed. The hare writhed frantically, but couldn't manage to break free. "I'll kill all of you damn hares... you'll be in Dark Forest long before I."  
  
The Stormrat stood, dragging the hare up with him. He started to kick out viciously at Sunai, but the Stormrat didn't seem to notice. With a display of strength that shocked the vermin who were watching him, he twisted the hare's neck and cracked his spine. Then, he let him fall to the ground, where the hare went limp. Sunai stood panting over the body for a few moments, and then turned to the beasts in his horde. He looked at the beasts gathered around him, searching for one of his captains.  
  
Mark was the one he saw first. "Mark!" he barked out hoarsely. "Wake anybeast who managed to sleep through this and whip them into shape. I won't have any undisciplined beasts in my horde!" The ferret nodded, and moved off through the gathered beasts to do as Sunai had asked.  
  
After his captain had departed, Sunai turned in the direction that Danni had departed in. Toward Salamandastron. The hares were finally retreating, and there was no reason that Sunai shouldn't take his horde and follow them. We'll get moving , then, thought Sunai. After Mark beats the beasts that managed to sleep through this commotion into shape.  
  
It didn't take long for Mark to do so. Within ten minutes, everybeast that did not wake when the alarm was sounded was begging Mark and the beasts helping him for mercy. Mark grudgingly ended their whipping, but only because he saw Sunai's impatience when he looked at the Stormrat. Sunai ordered his troops to move shortly after that, and move they did.  
  
Sunai marched up front as he usually did, but this time, Danni was not there with him. He worried about her, and hoped that she had not chased the hares farther than she should've. She isn't a stupid beast, thought Sunai, trying to reassure himself. She wouldn't have done anything like that. But every minute that Danni was not with him made Sunai more tense, and after only a little bit, he felt like he was going to snap.  
  
Ryslia was the unfortunate beast who sought him out, and ended up provoking his wrath. "When's your vixen gonna be back, Stormbringer?" asked the eagle. "She promised that she'd mend my wing after this war was over. If she isn't here, I'm not keeping my end of the bargain!"  
  
"You will keep your bargain!" snapped Sunai, spinning on his heel and shoving Ryslia down to the ground. "If you don't keep the gulls away, I'll break your other wing, too. Even the healers at Redwall would have a rough time mending that sort of wound."  
  
The eagle nodded quickly. "I'm sorry, Stormbringer. But what is this you say about healers at Redwall? Why did you not tell me of this before, when you first offered me a beast to heal my wing in exchange for my service?"  
  
"Because I needed you, that's why," answered Sunai. "You're clever enough to figure that out on your own. Do you think I would willingly associate with a bird? Even an eagle, as majestic as it may be, is still nothing compared to a Stormrat!"  
  
Ryslia tried to get to her legs, and even when she couldn't manage, she kept her pride. "I should have known better than to trust you, vermin," she spat. "But I don't have any other choice, now. I'll let you keep me around to scare the gulls off as long as you keep your end of the bargain. Now, help me up!"  
  
"We're close enough to Salamandastron that we don't have to worry about gulls!" exclaimed Sunai, laughing harshly. "I don't need you anymore." Sunai stepped on the eagle's wing. The sound of her desperate cries seemed to relieve the worry he was feeling for Danni, but he wasn't finished. He felt the ghastly rage that had possessed him when he murdered the hare fill him again, and in a moment, Stormbringer was in his paws. "You should have never treated me as if you were an equal," he said, his voice deathly low. "No bird is equal to a true warrior!"  
  
Sunai brought Stormbringer up above his head, and brought it down into Ryslia's heart. The eagle's cries of pain died down from fierce to nothing. When he withdrew his sword, he began to tremble. He turned and looked at his horde, who had stopped what they were doing to stare at him. "What are you looking at?" he said threateningly. "March."  
  
Scared into submission by the death of a captain, the horde did as they were told. At that moment, it became apparent to even the most dense vermin that Sunai was more dangerous than his brother Meist. To both his own horde, and the enemy. While Meist would only kill when in a blind rage, this Stormrat was subject to more dangerous motivations: vengeance, worry, a desire for power, and love.  
  
When Danni finally returned to the horde, Sunai opened his arms and embraced her tightly. Somehow, she seemed to know what he had done before he told her, but it didn't stop her affection for him in the least. "I was worried," said Sunai, quietly, aware that many of the beasts in his horde were staring at him, surprised by his sudden change of feelings. "Let's go on to Salamandastron. After the hares are dead... I'll be free. I won't need vengeance any more."  
  
~~~  
  
Once again, Lord Rocketh labored in the forge room. Hares that had escaped the fate that had befallen Sergeant Polwyn had come an hour ago, telling of another, more clever Stormrat that was just as dangerous as the one that Merlin had reported, as well as notifying him of the approaching horde. He had prepared his hares to defend the mountain, and had meant to stand at the entrance until the vermin army drew near.  
  
But something had drawn him to the forge room. An inner desire to forge as his ancestors had, perhaps. That's what Lord Rocketh had thought at first, and he had battled within himself, trying to convince himself that it would be better to stand and await the vermin. He should have been down there, helping Colonel Jeffrey, Merlin, and the other Long Patrol hares prepare the mountain for combat. At the very least, he could have been watching the east, waiting for some sign of the Redwallers that he fervently hoped would come to his aid.  
  
But he was here, in the forge room, hammering at a piece of heated steel, trying to make a weapon that a beast would be proud to wield. He knew better than to be here, but something other than himself had driven him to come. He forged using his instincts, not trying to guess what every stroke of his hammer would do. He let fate guide his blows, and prayed that some deceased Badger Lord was watching over his actions.  
  
Rocketh had no idea how much time had passed before he decided to stop. Without even looking at what he had forged, he dropped the hammer and used the tongs, which he had put on the floor right beside his feet, to pick up the metal from the anvil and carry it over to the water tank. He still didn't look at what he had forged. To his mind, there was no reason to suffer disappointment before he had to.  
  
He dipped the metal into the forge, and listened to the water hiss and bubble. When it had finally stopped, and he was sure that the metal had cooled, he withdrew the blade he had forged from the water tank.  
  
Its magnificence almost made him drop the tongs and the blade he had forged. While he would be able to hold it in a single paw, a smaller beast would use it as a broadsword. He ran his paw along the finely forged edge, watching in pride as the blade he had forged drew blood. "I did this," he muttered, feeling pride fill him. "No," he muttered after a moment, "I didn't. Badger Lords from the past guided my paw, and helped me to forge this blade. But it was my paw that made this, so I am worthy of this sword."  
  
The sword isn't to be yours. Lord Rocketh started, thinking that somebeast was speaking to him from beyond the grave, but he realized that the thought had been his own. I will use the sword Lord Sunforge gave to me. My blade, this magnificent piece of work, will go to another beast. That much, Lord Rocketh knew, but he didn't know who to give the sword to. None of his hares seemed quite right for it. Even Merlin, who had found a special place in Lord Rocketh's heart, didn't seem quite right for the sword. I'll keep it until I find a beast that's right for it, he decided, wrapping the blade in a nearby cloth. He kept the blade with him when he walked out of the forge room.  
  
Colonel Jeffrey was waiting outside, and wasn't looking at all happy. "Th' vermin horde is within sight, sire, and we need your direction. If y' spent any longer in there, I would've come in and gotten you. We need you right now, an' there's no excuse for stayin' in that forge room at a time like this! I thought y' understood what I told you!"  
  
Rocketh lifted the blade and removed the cloth that covered it. He was pleased to see the awe and surprise that flickered across the colonel's face as he beheld the blade. "It's... magnificent," said Jeffrey, reaching his paw out to touch it. Rocketh let him touch the blade, and allowed himself a proud grin. Apparently, it was a success even to eyes other than his own.  
  
"Let's get down t' th' dinin' hall, sah," said Colonel Jeffrey, gazing up at Lord Rocketh's face and smiling. "That's quite an accomplishment, an' if we didn't have a war t' fight, I'd show y' how impressed I am. But my hares are waitin' for us in th' dinin' hall, so we best both get down there with 'em."  
  
"Let me get my sword first, Colonel," said Lord Rocketh. Jeffrey's face quickly became confused, and Lord Rocketh bit back a smile. "This blade I forged isn't mine, and it isn't meant for anybeast within Salamandastron, either. Perhaps the beast that is meant to bear it will come with the Redwallers. But it isn't mine. My blade was made for me by Lord Sunforge."  
  
The colonel nodded, and he and Lord Rocketh walked down the stairs to Salamandastron's third floor. There, Lord Rocketh went to his chambers while the colonel went down to the dining hall.  
  
Rocketh slid open the door to his chambers carefully. His sword lay near his bed, and he walked over to it, picking it up and gazing admiringly at it. I wonder which is better? he thought, looking back and forth between his sword and the one he had forged. It doesn't matter. Either way, the one I'm carrying to battle is the one Lord Sunforge made for me.  
  
He left the sword he had forged on his bed, and left his chambers with his own sword in paw. It took him several minutes to make his way down to the dining hall, but when he got there, every hare within Salamandastron was present. Cook, cleaner, healer, warrior, runner - all were gathered in the dining hall. All of the hares gazed at Lord Rocketh when he stepped in, and he felt himself gripped by something he had never felt before - a weight of responsibility that could crush the strongest beast alive into the ground. But Lord Rocketh could bear it - he was a Badger Lord, and war was his destiny.  
  
Lord Rocketh took a seat in the Badger Lord's chair positioned at the head of one of the dining hall's tables, and put his sword on the table in front of him. "We are gathered here to plan for war. I have never fought before, but I feel that I will be able to lead you as well as any other beast. I am a Badger Lord, and I was born to protect this coast. I swear that whether or not the Redwallers come, I will lead you in a valiant stand against this horde. We may or may not win, but the Stormrat who leads the horde will not forget us!  
  
"I don't know how much of our present situation you hares know, so I'll inform you of what information has developed. There is not one, but two Stormrats that lead the horde that is coming from the south. One is a brute, as strong as a badger, with untold ferocity. The other is more sly and cunning than that, and is the horde's true leader, as the hares that escaped Sergeant Polwyn's fate will tell you." Lord Rocketh paused, looking up and down his table and the others. "Is there any hare who wishes to ask a question of me, or any other beast?"  
  
When nobeast spoke, Lord Rocketh continued. Previously, he had only the barest idea of what it would be like to be caught in a war, but now he felt as if he knew exactly what he must do. "I will need ten hares to stand around the mountain, to keep watch on the vermin horde. Those that are facing the horde must inform me of whatever the vermin do that may be significant. The others will be watching for any vermin that tries to sneak around Salamandastron, for whatever purpose. And the sentries on the east side of the mountain will also keep watch for reinforcements from Redwall.  
  
"It has also been pointed out to me that we will need to guard our gardens well. Another ten hares will wait in the gardens, ready to burn them down if the Stormrats begin to advance up the mountain side, or if we are forced to leave the mountain." Several murmurs of protest were audible throughout the dining hall, but Lord Rocketh silenced them with a wave of his paw. "I know that the gardeners in this fortress put a lot of effort into tending to those crops, and I would hate to see their work destroyed. But if it seems that our enemy may benefit from them, we must do our best to stop them - even if it means destroying the crops."  
  
"The bulk of our remaining hares will be positioned above the entrances facing toward the vermin horde. Threescore archers will be first in line on the mountainside, ready to cut down any vermin who begins to climb Salamandastron's rocky face. The rest of the hares will be gathered above the archers, ready to sweep down and attack if the vermin push becomes too much.  
  
"The entrances into the mountain will be sealed shut with boulders, but we must be prepared to defend those entrances if need be. A score of hares each will be positioned in the entrances facing south, but the other entrances will be left undefended, save for one facing east. It is through there that we will permit the Redwallers entrance into our fortress, if they should arrive. Are there any questions that I cannot answer later, after the battle has begun?" Once again, nobeast spoke. "Then I will ask Colonel Jeffrey and Sergeant Maxwell to chose the beasts best suited for every defensive position. Cooks will remain in the kitchens, and healers will wait in the infirmary should anybeast need medical assistance. Beasts that have never fought before will guard the entrances that have been sealed. Get to work!"  
  
Salamandastron's dining hall erupted into a frenzy of activity as beast stood and were assigned positions. The chaos was organized though, as the Long Patrol had a discipline forged by every veteran hare who served at the mountain. Even after Lord Sunforge had died, the hares that were in positions of authority had kept the Long Patrol disciplined, knowing that the end of the Stormrat War did not signal an end to the mountain's troubles. This frenzy of activity would appear chaotic and disorganized to a viewer from outside of Salamandastron, but Lord Rocketh could see that hares waited patiently to be assigned to their positions, even as they milled about. The chatter was divided into many different conversations, most of which, Lord Rocketh guessed, concerned the upcoming battle. And almost all of the movement in the dining hall consisted of beasts clearing the way for cooks and healers to get to the kitchens and infirmary.  
  
Lord Rocketh left the dining hall and made his way to the entrances. It was his job to seal them with boulders; there weren't enough hares available to roll them all into position. But a boulder that needed an entire group of hares to budge could be rolled along by a single Badger Lord. It wouldn't be easy for Lord Rocketh, being young for a Badger Lord, but he was sure that he would be able to seal the entrances with some effort.  
  
But the Badger Lord's mind was taken away from sealing Salamandastron's entrances in an instant, once he had stepped outside of the mountain. He could see the vermin horde setting up camp in the distance, some already making campfires. About a score of vermin stole off toward the east, but Lord Rocketh couldn't guess why. He turned his gaze back to the bulk of the horde, and realized how outnumbered his hares were. We have Salamandastron, he reminded himself. That gives us something. And hopefully, we have allies in the east.  
  
Turning his thoughts away from the vermin horde, Lord Rocketh turned his gaze to the boulders that he would use to seal Salamandastron's ground entrances. He let out a dismayed sigh when he realized how big they were, but he knew they could still be moved. Rocketh stepped toward the first one, flexing his muscles and preparing to exert himself in a manner that he never had before. 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

To Merlin's eyes, it seemed that the vermin horde gathered south of Salamandastron was growing steadily smaller. Dark clouds covered the moon, so the only light by which he could see was the campfire, and he couldn't make out the shapes of the vermin in the horde clearly. In truth, it was more of a feeling of dread than anything else that made him think something was amiss, but he was so sure that the threat was real that he sought out Lord Rocketh.  
  
"You think that beasts are leaving the Stormrat camp?" asked Lord Rocketh, who was busy listening to Long Patrollers who were stationed on both the outside and inside of the mountain. Even after he had told them where to go and what to do, many things were unclear to the defenders. Lord Rocketh had finally settled on moving a group of expert fighting beasts to the eastern entrance that he had decided to keep open, and less experienced fighters in the entrances in the south that were blocked by boulders. But he had been adamant about keeping as many troops as possible on the south face of Salamandastron. Excluding the hares standing guard in the entrances around the mountain and the beasts that were working in the kitchen and tunnels, along with the sentries on Salamandastron's other faces, only about one hundred hares stood guard on the mountain. And though almost half of them were archers, the Stormrats' horde would be able to climb the mountain fairly quickly, and when they drew close, the archers would be unable to fire for fear of hitting their own beasts.  
  
Merlin nodded. "Yes, sah. I don't have any concrete proof, but there's somethin' I don't trust about those shadows I see 'round their campfires. I don't know why, but I think they're movin'... I can't see where, though. I can't see anythin' beyond the light o' the campfires. Maybe that's why the Stormrat in charge positioned themselves so?"  
  
Lord Rocketh frowned. "If I could spare the troops, I'd send more to guard the east side of Salamandastron. I'm wary of leaving it as lightly defended as it is at the moment, but the truth is that they have us outnumbered. I could draw guards from the southern entrances I sealed... yes, I think that's what I'll do. Thank you, Merlin. You are dismissed."  
  
The Badger Lord turned to the next hare who came to him. After speaking with him, he sent the hare off with a message to the hares in the passages below telling them to move to the east. Satisfied that his worries were taken care of, Merlin returned to where he had been standing.  
  
Archers stood below and around Merlin. Lord Rocketh had decided several hours ago that everybeast on the southern face of Salamandastron would have a longbow close at paw, since it would be more costly to the vermin if the Long Patrollers shot at them from above and then moved to paw to paw combat. The Badger Lord knew that the Stormrat would find some way to avoid most of the damage that the arrows would normally do; in the Stormrat War, the vermin attacking Salamandastron had made a turtle-like formation using wooden shields that rendered them nearly invincible to arrows from the top and sides. Only a few well placed falling boulders broke the formation and prevented the vermin from climbing the mountains. They would be able to do the same thing this time, but Lord Rocketh suspected that the Stormrat in command of the current invaders knew of the tactics Lord Sunforge had employed five seasons ago and would have thought of ways to fight them.  
  
Oblivious to the voices of the hares around him, Merlin stared out at the campfires and the shadowy shapes of the vermin moving around them. There seemed to have been more shadows earlier in the night. Perhaps Merlin was being paranoid, and the lack of shadows was caused by vermin going to sleep or the eventual burning out of the campfires. But his heart told him otherwise, and Merlin continued to watch the Stormrat campfires.  
  
After only a couple minutes, Merlin turned around and saw Lord Rocketh coming up from behind him. Merlin offered his Badger Lord a small grin, putting as much confidence into it as he could muster. "Jolly fine night out here, sah," said Merlin, as if he had not just warned Lord Rocketh of a vermin movement that he was not entirely sure of. "If there wasn't a flippin' horde waitin' out there, I'd gladly go for a walk under th' stars."  
  
"That would be nice," said the Badger Lord, chuckling. "Especially if you had a haremaid to share the journey with." Merlin didn't blush at Lord Rocketh's statement, even though that was probably the badger's goal, but he did feel some embarrassment. There were some haremaids in the Long Patrol he wouldn't hesitate to ask for company on a walk in the dark, and he couldn't help but wonder if Lord Rocketh knew what he was thinking. Merlin shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at the ground.  
  
"But that's not what I'm here for, Merlin," said Lord Rocketh quietly. He withdrew a sword from his belt. In the badger's paws, the sword seemed average-sized, but most other beasts would find it large. It was one of the most dazzling weapons Merlin had ever seen, even more so than most of the weapons he had caught sight of on his infrequent trips into the armory.  
  
Lord Rocketh handed it to Merlin. Even though the had held it easily in one paw, Merlin needed to hold it with two paws.. Even so, one could probably grow used to carrying it after carrying it and fighting with it for some time.  
  
But what Merlin found to be the most fascinating thing about the blade was its color. Even though it was colored like other swords, there seemed to be a reddish hue to it that Merlin couldn't explain. The red seemed to move as Merlin turned the sword in his paws, and he got the impression that the color came from something inside the sword.  
  
"You see the red, too?" asked Lord Rocketh. "I thought I was imagining things, but since you can see it I guess I wasn't. I'll call this sword Salamander, then."  
  
Merlin extended the sword back toward Lord Rocketh, but the Badger Lord shook his head. "This blade is not meant for me. Nor you, or any hare of the Long Patrol. If you should survive the coming battle, I want you to find the beast this sword is destined for, regardless of what happens here at Salamandastron."  
  
"I understand, sah," said Merlin, taking back the sword and holding it in paw. "I'll find a beast worthy o' Salamander. Does this sword have a sheath?"  
  
Lord Rocketh nodded. "Wait here. I'll get you the sheath." Merlin watched the departing badger's back for a few moments, and then turned his attention back to the slowly dying campfires on the beach. Somehow, Merlin didn't find the sight quite so unnerving with Salamander clutched in his paws.  
  
~~~  
  
Danni marched away from Sunai's camp with two stoats, hoping that the darkness would conceal them from the eyes of the Long Patrol hares that were undoubtedly watching the horde for any sign of activity. Laskit had seemed confident that the beasts walking out the back of the camp would be unnoticed if they crept out in small groups, but Danni couldn't help having doubts. But she couldn't show them to any of the beasts that would be with her. Sunai was staying behind at camp, and there was nobeast else she would trust with her doubts. And because Sunai and his other advisors were staying behind, she was in charge of the attacking group.  
  
She had only the vaguest idea of which beasts from Sunai's horde would be going with her. She knew that Meist would be there, and that she was the only one of Sunai's advisors that would be taking part in this plan. Other than that, she knew that about half of the beasts that made up Sunai's horde would be assisting her.  
  
Compared to her stoat companions, Danni's footpaws swept across the ground without making a sound. She let the two brutish stoats move in front of her, and stayed behind them, making a game out of setting her footpaws on the ground so as to make the smallest amount of noise as possible.  
  
When she finally reached the beasts that had assembled as a part of Laskit's plan, the sentry that had been waiting for new arrivals looked up at her in surprise. The sentry was another fox, one that she would have thought a fit choice for a mate if she did not already have Sunai. A grin spread across Danni's face at the fox's scowl, and she moved past him to the rest of the assembled vermin once he had approved her movements. Apparently, several weeks of sea travel and marching hadn't dulled her edge when it came to stealth. Whether she remained as fast as she had been before boarding the Stormbringer's ships remained to be seen.  
  
Moving quietly away from the other vermin, Danni moved into the shadows again. She jogged forward, and then began sprinting. Soon, the sound of Danni's controlled breathing was accompanied only by the crashing of waves along the shore.  
  
After sprinting for several hundred meters, Danni turned around and began moving back toward the other vermin. When she reached the halfway point, her sprinted tapered off into a jog, and when she returned to the gathered beasts she had slowed to a slow run.  
  
I'm not as good as I used to be, thought Danni as she drew to a halt. She was more winded that she would have wished, and lamented not being able to keep in shape aboard the ship. Still, she reminded herself, I can sprint faster and longer than any of the other beasts here.  
  
Once all the beasts from Sunai's camp had gathered, Danni stepped forward and waved her paws in the air. Several beasts quieted at her gesture, but she was forced to raise her voice and call for silence to attract the attention of the others. When all the beasts gathered around her had fallen silent, she raised her voice again to give them their orders.  
  
"I'm sure everybeast here has some idea of what we are attempting, but I want each of you to be fully informed." The vixen spoke loudly; there was no chance that the beasts at Salamandastron would be able to hear her over the waves from this distance. "The Stormbringer wishes us to sneak through the night and make our way to Salamandastron's eastern side, and attack the mountain from there. Salamandastron's southern entrances have been blocked with boulders, but we hope to find the eastern entrances open and undefended. If we find no way to enter Salamandastron through the eastern entrances, we are to climb the mountain's east face and attack the Long Patrol from there. If the Stormbringer sees the hares come under attack, he will charge to our aid.  
  
"Kill any hare you see. We do not want to risk the Long Patrol finding out about our presence before we've secured a position on the mountain. Try to take the enemy by surprise, and try to keep the fighting as quiet as possible." Danni looked at the ground, trying to discern whether there would be any beast that would be likely to disregard those orders and look for the most violent and bloody fight that they could find.  
  
A rumbling chuckle came from the shadows, and Danni fixed her gaze on its source. The hulking figure of Meist moved closer to her, and grinned darkly at her. "You think you can stop me from killing, little vixen?"  
  
Danni fought the urge to shrink back from the beast. His size intimidated her; it would do the same to almost anybeast, and she knew that the Stormrat's temper was not held on any sort of leash. But even so, she would speak her mind. "You may be the strongest beast among us, Meist, but you will follow your brother's orders like any other."  
  
"I will do what Sunai says," hissed Meist, "but nobeast will stop me from slaying who I please."  
  
"As you wish," said Danni reluctantly, not willing to pursue the matter any further. The brute could tear her limb from limb if he wanted to, and she did not want to provoke him into doing anything like that. But if Meist spoiled the Stormbringer's plans, she would see him dead. Sunai could handle him if he were here, she thought. He always managed to hold some power over his brother.  
  
"Now we march," said Danni to the vermin gathered around her. We will travel from here to the eastern side of Salamandastron. If we stay far enough away, the darkness should conceal our movements from the eyes of any of the hares. Our voices should not reach the mountainside, but I still ask that you remain cautious and speak quietly. And when the time comes to attack the mountain, anybeast who speaks in more than a whisper will be punished by the Stormbringer."  
  
One of the soldiers in front of her, a rat, shifted uncertainly on his footpaws. They don't like those orders, she thought. And in truth, she knew that they were extreme. But she, and almost all of the vermin around her, understood their necessity. Sunai intended to win Salamandastron with this assault, and Danni knew that the beasts around her were certain of the torture they would face at the Stormbringer's paws if they did not succeed.  
  
The gathered vermin set off, keeping a large distance between themselves and the mountain fortress they were to attack. Glares from Danni and other beasts silenced those who spoke loudly, and eventually the group lapsed into a sullen, yet determined, march.  
  
Danni didn't bother keeping track of how long it took the vermin to march into position, but her instincts told her that there were only a few hours remaining before dawn when the group arrived at their planned position. Salamandastron loomed to the east, and Danni felt her breath catch in her throat. If all went well, they would have the element of surprise on their side, but could they hold any entrance they claimed from the fury of a Badger Lord and his Long Patrol?  
  
As if he knew the vixen's thoughts, Meist stepped forward and grinned. "Time for me to kill," he said viciously, clenching one of his paws into a fist. Though she couldn't see it clearly in the dark, Danni's imagination told her what the Stormrat's face looked like. An image of a wicked grin and blood-red eyes came unbidden to the vixen's mind, and she couldn't keep herself from shuddering.  
  
Meist let out a harsh laugh, and turned to walk away into the darkness. Danni stared at the Stormrat's back as he left, and she shivered violently. If Sunai had not found him a mate to keep him under control, I believe many of us would not be alive.  
  
"We attack now," Danni told the vermin assembled around her several minutes later. "We will follow our original plan to the letter. Remember to speak only if you have to, and even then, keep your voice as quiet as the wind."  
  
And then the vermin were off, marching toward the mountain where their leader desired to have his vengeance.  
  
~~~  
  
Captain Holdrin grit his teeth. In truth, he was more than a bit put off at being sent to Salamandastron's east side and ordered to watch for reinforcements from Redwall. He would much rather be at Lord Rocketh's side, ready to advise him and help defend the mountain when it came under attack. To his mind, it was a waste to keep this entrance open, defending it with more than a score of hares that could have lent their much-needed paws to the defense of the mountain's southern face.  
  
Lord Rocketh might have even been clinging to a false hope. It was entirely possible that Redwall's Abbess had refused Lord Rocketh's plea for help. The hare that the Badger Lord had sent as a messenger, Candice, might not even have made it to the Abbey's walls. But Lord Rocketh seemed to think that sparing Captain Holdrin and twenty eight other hares was an acceptable risk, and Holdrin was not willing to challenge a Badger Lord, even one as inexperienced as Lord Rocketh was.  
  
Holdrin glanced at one of his fellow Long Patrol hares, and was pleased to see that if she, too, was longing to be where the action would be, she hid it well. The hare held her scimitar close at paw, and her eyes were trained intently on the outside of the mountain despite the fact that almost nothing was visible in the darkness. The captain let a small smile cross his face. With loyal beasts like this defending Salamandastron, the vermin would need a miracle to win.  
  
A loud thump came from outside the entrance, and Holdrin stood up, clutching his rapier in his paw. He raised a paw in the air, and three other hares stood up and went to his side. The small group stepped outside, looking around for the source of the noise.  
  
It was another one of the hares who saw the body first. He ran over to the side of the dead hare, and felt his neck for a pulse. "He's dead, sah," said the hare. "It's young Grissom, one o' th' hares you sent up to watch for vermin."  
  
Holdrin gazed into the darkness. The faint sound of wind was all he could hear. Then, in the distance, he heard the pounding of footpaws, as if an army was approaching. "Get inside!" the captain shouted. His three companions were quick to obey, and sprinted toward the mountain stronghold's entrance.  
  
A pair of weasels leaped down from the rocks above the hares to block their path. A quick lunge and slash from one of them dropped one of Holdrin's companions, and then the beast leaped back. Holdrin wondered briefly whether the other sentry he had sent up the mountainside had been killed too, and then leaped at one of the stoats, thrusting his rapier out at the vermin.  
  
The weasel blocked the blow with his short sword, but made no move to attack on his own. They're waiting for something, Holdrin realized after thrusting several more times with his rapier and having his blows turned away each time. His companions were faring slightly better against the weasel they were fighting, but to the captain's surprise, the vermin was holding its ground.  
  
The pounding behind him became more pronounced, and despite his seasons of training, he began to panic. There was no way these weasels could be beaten back in time to escape the approaching army, however big it was. The pair of vermin fought grimly, as if they had been prepared for this fight for a long time. Amazing that these foul beasts can stand up to the Long Patrol, he thought.  
  
Holdrin's opponent blocked another thrust, and drew back toward the entrance. A loud crack split the night air, and the weasel's eyes rolled up into its head. Another crack came almost immediately after, and the other weasel fell to the ground. The captain looked toward the entrance, and saw a pair of hares reloading their slings. He ran forward, followed closely by two of the three hares that came outside with him. Holdrin thought briefly of the bodies of the sentry and the hare, but those thoughts were banished from his mind once he entered the mountain.  
  
"We're under attack by a pack o' vermin," he said, bringing himself to halt. The hares inside were already on their footpaws and standing at attention. "We're going t' need t' hold 'em as long as we can, but I expect we'll need t' surrender this entrance to 'em." Holdrin pointed his paw at a random hare. "You, go tell Lord Rocketh that we're under attack, an' that we need some bally help." Without pausing to see the hare leave, he whirled around. "For Salamandastron! Eulalia!"  
  
The two hares that had stayed outside to sling stones at the approaching vermin backed inside of Salamandastron, giving ground reluctantly. The pair loaded their slings again as they backed up, and drew to a halt. They whirled the slings above their head, letting them gather momentum. And when the vermin finally charged into the mountain, they let the slingstones fly.  
  
Two searats dropped dead from the slingstones, and about ten more stones flew from the hares gathered further in the mountain. The three other beasts that had accompanied the first two vermin into the mountain dropped to the floor. Whether they were injured or dead, Holdrin couldn't tell. Then another group of five charged through the entrance, followed closely by another. Again, the hares rained slingstones on the vermin, but those in front took the brunt of the assault. As the vermin closed in on him and the other gathered hares, the captain lifted his rapier in front of him and braced himself.  
  
Holdrin lashed out at the beast in front of him, a stoat. His blade was turned away by the vermin's, but the hare captain pressed his attack. Keeping on the offensive, Holdrin pushed the stoat back, attacking with a flurry of slashes and thrusts that his opponent only barely managed to parry. He thrust his rapier at the stoat's face, and when the vermin brought his scimitar up to block the attack, he swept the stoat's footpaws out from under him with his legs. The vermin's breath was knocked out of him as he hit the ground, and Holdrin finished him with a quick slice to the throat.  
  
He only had time to bring his rapier back to his body before more foes were upon him. Two vermin, a searat and a ferret, stood in front of him. Holdrin grimly lashed out at the ferret with his rapier. The blow was parried easily, and the searat swung his scimitar down at Holdrin.  
  
The hare dodged away, and then leaped back forward, lashing out at the searat with one of his footpaws. The vermin flew back, stunned, and Holdrin turned his attention to the ferret.  
  
Before Holdrin had a chance to attack, the vermin leaped forward, swinging his saber at Holdrin. The hare brought up his rapier to ward off the blow, but before he had a chance to retaliate, the ferret pressed his attack, keeping Holdrin on the defensive as the hare had done with the stoat not even half a minute ago.  
  
Seeing that he would be slain if he did not take the offensive, Holdrin let his hare instincts take over. He charged forward, heedless of the ferret's saber swinging at him. A swift punch to the ferret's stomach, sent the beast staggering backwards, but before he could bring up his saber in defense, Holdrin shoved his rapier through the vermin's heart.  
  
Holdrin withdrew the rapier from the ferret's body and let it drop to the ground. He whirled around to face the next vermin who approached him. Before he even saw his opponent, he thrust his rapier forward.  
  
A blow to his skull was enough to send Holdrin reeling backward, and the rapier slipped from his paws. With a shake of his head, the hare cleared his vision, and in less than a second he had already launched himself at the beast who had struck him. But this beast launched himself toward Holdrin, swinging one of his paws at the hare's head. This time, Holdrin's body fell limply to the ground.  
  
Feebly, the hare rolled himself over. But any resistance he might have offered faded as he finally glimpsed the beast he had been fighting in his last seconds of life. As muscular as a Badger Lord, and with eyes that glowed red with a lust for death, a Stormrat stepped on his throat and crushed his windpipe.  
  
~~~  
  
Andrew woke with a gasp and rolled out of his bed. He fought his way free of the sheet he had been sleeping under, and reached under his bed for his sword. Without quite knowing why, he slid the sword free of its sheath and made his way toward the door to Hake's hut.  
  
Outside, he came across the older mouse staring up at the sky. He turned his head at Andrew's approach. "What brings you out here this late?" Although there was no smile present on his face, there was in his voice.  
  
"I... need to go back to Redwall," Andrew blurted out. The events of his dream - the ghostly mouse beckoning to him, the strange hare who was trying to place fire in his paws, and the warrior mouse arguing with Abbess Elm - flooded back to him. He couldn't make sense of the visions, but he knew that he needed to return to the Abbey.  
  
Hake nodded, not seeming at all surprised. "I don't suppose you could wait until morning to depart?"  
  
"I could wait, but I don't think I could get back to sleep. And any more time spent here is time not spent getting back home." Andrew looked into the depths of Mossflower. He could handle most of what was out there, and he was not afraid of the dark.  
  
"Then travel safely, Andrew," said Hake. The older mouse reached out and grabbed Andrew's shoulder before he could vanish into Mossflower. "Don't forget your sheath," he hissed.  
  
A couple minutes later, Andrew departed from his mentor, his sword sheathed at his side. Now, he would make his way home.  
  
~~~  
  
Danni allowed herself a smile of satisfaction as she looked at the dead bodies around her. While there were more vermin slain than hares, this entrance was theirs. The Badger Lord of Salamandastron could not hope to reclaim it while keeping a strong enough force on the mountain's south face to repel an attack from Sunai. At least, that was what Danni hoped.  
  
The battle is not done yet, the vixen reminded herself, taking her dagger from its sheath. There will be more hares coming for us. Not enough to defeat us if we fight well, but we must be ready.  
  
It was Danni's lightning reflexes that saved her life. She leaped away from where she stood as soon as she heard the beast behind her launch herself at her. Danni sprung at the beast before it had a chance to recover and forced it to the ground, bringing the blade of her dagger up to its throat.  
  
"Bitch," Christopher hissed as Danni glared at him. "I could've had you dead. You - " The vermin's words were cut off when Danni slit his throat.  
  
Danni got to her feet, pointedly ignoring the dying Christopher and the stares other vermin were giving her. "Be ready for an attack," she said loudly. "Now that we've got this entrance, we want to hold it." Seeing that the vermin were listening to her, she glanced down at Christopher. "I should have killed him when I had the chance." Knowing that the mistake of letting that wretched beast live almost cost Danni her life, she swore not to make the same mistake again. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"The east entrance has been attacked?" bellowed Lord Rocketh. He tightened his grip on the blade Lord Sunforge had made for him. The hare that had delivered the news to Lord Rocketh, one of the beasts that had entered the Long Patrol after the Stormrat War, backed away from the badger. "I knew I should have spared more troops to defend the eastern side. If only we had more hares..."  
  
"I suggest fightin' back immediately, sah," said Sergeant Maxwell. He had been the one who noticed the frantic hare come out of Salamandastron and taken him to the Badger Lord. Once he was in front of Lord Rocketh, the hare had frantically gave an account of a vermin attack on the eastern entrance that Lord Rocketh had decided to keep open. Though he had been ordered off before the battle begun, the screams of vermin and hares alike had echoed through the corridors and reached the Long Patroller's ears. And though he could not say for certain what the outcome of the battle had been, the hare had said that it had likely ended in favor of the vermin.  
  
"How many hares can we spare, Sergeant?" asked Rocketh, whirling to face Maxwell. His eyes were bright and sharp, and although he had never fought such a crucial battle as this, he was ready to do what was expected of him. "I need all the beasts we can spare. I'll lead them into battle myself."  
  
Sergeant Maxwell glanced behind him. Hares were kneeling on the mountainside, holding their longbows at the ready and waiting for the vermin to make their move. Although they couldn't see movement in the vermin camp, they kept their eyes and ears focused in case one sight or sound made the difference in the defense of Salamandastron. "I think we can spare twoscore hares," said the Sergeant, "as well as any that're left guardin' the southern entrances. I'll send a runner down there t' tell everybeast t' meet us outside the dinin' hall."  
  
"You're coming along?" asked Rocketh. "That would leave only Colonel Jeffrey to command the defense here."  
  
"He can manage," said Maxwell confidently. "If the vermin try chargin' up this face o' th' mountain, th' archers will almost certainly cut them down."  
  
"Stormrats are more clever than that," muttered Rocketh. His eyes were unfocused, and he spoke with the certainty of a beast who had realized a truth that could not be argued with. "But it is the force that has already breached Salamandastron that we should be concerned about. In fact, it may already be too late, if the beasts of Redwall have decided not to come to our aid."  
  
"...Lord Rocketh?" whispered Sergeant Maxwell, his voice quivering as he watched his lord look at something the hare could not see. The seconds that Rocketh spent with this blank, unfocused look in his eyes seemed to Maxwell to last for many nervous hours.  
  
Then, the badger shook his head violently from side to side. Maxwell to instinctively backed away, nervous despite his Long Patrol discipline. But when the badger stopped moving his head and looked up at Maxwell, the sight of his bared teeth and the blood-red fire that seemed to glow in his eyes was enough to terrify the hare.  
  
Every instinct in Maxwell's body told him to turn away from this fearsome beast that was his lord. It took every scrap of self control he had and all his seasons of training as a Long Patroller to stay where he was. The Badger Lord looked at Maxwell with death in his eyes, and after what seemed like an eternity a small shred of sense appeared within that flaming gaze. "Gather the troops," he rasped. "Twoscore hares, Maxwell, like you said."  
  
The sergeant shuffled his feet. Despite his desire to flee the presence of the Badger Lord, he could not move his legs. They felt as if they had turned to jelly. Seeing Lord Rocketh succumbing to the grips of the Bloodwrath struck fear into Maxwell's heart in a way that nothing had before - not beast or battle or anything he knew.  
  
"Go," hissed Lord Rocketh. Somehow, Sergeant Maxwell fought his terror and regained control over his legs. Once he could move, he hurried away from the badger and toward Colonel Jeffrey, who was staring through the darkness at the vermin army. Although he couldn't see much of anything without light, it would be clear to him if anything more than a small group of vermin approached the mountain.  
  
"I'm afraid I'll be puttin' command o' th' defenses in your paws, Jeff," said Maxwell when he reached the colonel's side. His voice shook, but already he felt himself regaining control over his body and mind. "Lord Rocketh says that he an' I are supposed t' lead twoscore hares in an attack on a group o' vermin that took th' east entrance."  
  
Jeffrey closed his eyes. "Good luck t' y', old chap, whatever good it'll do you. I'll hold this place good 'n' strong with whatever hares I have." The Sergeant's eyes opened, and there was a touch of fear in them. "But what does Lord Rocketh think he can do with twoscore hares?" he whispered.  
  
"I don't know, but whatever he's goin' t' do, I'm with him. If Lord Sunforge saw fit t' choose him as Salamandastron's Badger Lord, he is th' one whose judgement I must obey. I can disagree with him, and argue with him, but when it comes t' th' defense o' this mountain, his orders are what I follow, just as it was under Lord Sunforge." Maxwell shivered. "An' I don't think there will be any reasoning with Lord Rocketh."  
  
It took a few moments for Jeffrey to understand the meaning of Maxwell's words. When the implication of what his fellow hare said registered in his brain, he shivered exactly as the Sergeant had. "Then y' better go an' find twoscore hares willin' t' fight t' th' death."  
  
Maxwell nodded, turned away, and began to pick and choose from the mountain's defenders.  
  
~~~  
  
The shadowed shape of Salamandastron loomed in the distance. From where he was, Cain could see nothing more detailed than the outline of the mountain, which appeared slightly darker than the land around it. Nevertheless, it was an awe-inspiring sight, even though he had seen it before when he had come to fight the Stormrats five seasons ago.  
  
Skipper walked at Cain's right, and several of his otters marched behind them. Gormin was several meters in front of them, staring ahead into the darkness. Candice had left several minutes ago to scout ahead, leaving Gormin behind to lead the march. The pair had been walking in front together ever since they had passed through Mossflower Wood.  
  
Once they had left Mossflower behind them, the group picked up their pace and did not stop to rest. It was a strain on almost all of the Redwallers, but they marched onward with little complaint. After all, Lord Rocketh and the Long Patrol needed them. Even those beasts who had not wanted to leave home kept marching - they could not call themselves goodbeasts if they did any less.  
  
"I wonder if the fighting has started yet, mate," said Skipper. He was breathing more heavily than usual from the effort of the marching, but he kept pushing on.  
  
The otter had a bag of slingstones and a sling at his belt, alongside a short knife.. But unlike most of the otters in Redwall's fighting force, he didn't carry any javelins. Instead, he had throwing axes at his belt and wore a larger axe, with a shaft almost as long as he was tall, across his back. When Skipper had first fought, driving a small band of vermin away from Redwall, his fellow otters had ridiculed him for choosing to use a battleaxe over their trusty javelins. His father, who had been Redwall's Skipper at the time, had even threatened to have him punished if he didn't discard his axe for a less unwieldy weapon. But after he had proven his worth in battle by charging toward the vermin under the cover of otter slingstones and squirrel arrows and dealing a swift death to the beasts who stood in his path, his fellow otters accepted that the battleaxe was an effective weapon, though a bit strange to see in an otter's paws.  
  
"If the battle has begun, we may already be too late." Cain kept his voice low; he definitely did not want to let any of the other Redwallers hear him saying this. "If the vermin have gotten inside the mountain, the Long Patrol may already have been slain."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that, mate," said Skipper. "Even if the vermin have gotten inside, the hares can still hide in the tunnels and underneath the mountain. An' if they must, I think the Long Patrollers can escape from Salamandastron."  
  
Cain looked forward again, and was surprised to see that Candice had returned. The hare was marching alongside Gormin and whispering excitedly to the warrior. Cain couldn't hear what was being said, nor could he see the beasts clearly in the dark. He looked over at Skipper, trying to make out his face in the dark. The otter nodded, and he and Cain quickened their pace until they caught up with Gormin and Candice.  
  
Without bothering to turn her head toward the two newcomers, Candice started speaking quickly, as if she had already said what she needed to say before and didn't want to repeat it again. "I went inside one o' th' eastern entrances, an' found more than a score o' hares dead. There were about twoscore vermin dead, too."  
  
"A battle, then?" asked Cain.  
  
Candice nodded. "My best guess is that th' vermin attacked th' east entrance, and forced their way through th' hares that were guardin' it. Th' other entrances were blocked by boulders, so I think that Lord Rocketh left that one open for us. There are prolly vermin in th' mountain now, but there's nothin' stoppin' us from takin' advantage o' that entrance, wot?"  
  
"Right," said Cain. "Let's charge the mountain and attack the vermin. They won't know what hit them!"  
  
It was only when he was running alongside Skipper, charging forward to Salamandastron, that it occurred to Cain how much pain Candice must have been in, after seeing the dead bodies of her fellow Long Patrollers. He briefly wished that he hadn't been so insensitive to the hare when they had talked, but it was too late to change now.  
  
~~~  
  
Maxwell followed Lord Rocketh carefully, keeping a good distance between himself and the badger. The huge beast held his sword in paw, and walked forward with purpose. He followed Salamandastron's tunnels without a backwards glance, with his loyal hares trailing along behind him.  
  
It had only taken about ten minutes for Sergeant Maxwell to gather a group of hares for Lord Rocketh and himself to venture into Salamandastron with. He had tried to withdraw hares from a variety of areas on the mountainside, not wanting to make it apparent to any watching vermin that the numbers of the defenders were thinning.  
  
Lord Rocketh led the hares through tunnels, down stairs, and across open caverns in the mountain, bringing them ever closer to the entrance that the vermin had captured. The Long Patrol hares kept their mouths closed, not letting even a whisper pass their lips for fear of bringing the wrath of their lord down on them. But each of the hares' hearts beat rapidly, not only because of the vermin that awaited them, but also due to the fierce rage of the beast who led them.  
  
Sergeant Maxwell gripped his saber as Lord Rocketh rounded a corner. They were drawing closer to the entrance, and it would soon be time to fight.  
  
The hare found himself staring at Lord Rocketh's back. A few other hares went up to stand behind Maxwell, and stopped when they saw that Maxwell and Rocketh had come to a stop. Maxwell looked around the badger in front of him, hoping to catch a glimpse of what stood in his leader's way.  
  
A searat, holding his saber with one shaking paw, was slowly backing away from the fierce Badger Lord who stood in front of him. The searat was in an open cavern, with the entrance into the tunnel that led toward the opening in the mountain to his back. Lord Rocketh brought his sword up and lowered his head. The searat let out a cry of terror and turned to run toward the cavern exit.  
  
Rocketh dashed forward, quickly catching up to the fleeing searat. With his free paw, he reached out and grabbed the searat by the scruff of its neck. The vermin flailed his legs uselessly and screamed, putting all the desperation and horror he felt into this one final cry.  
  
Then Lord Rocketh slammed the poor beast's skull into the cavern's stone wall, resulting in a sickening crunch. The searat's struggles ceased immediately, and Rocketh threw the vermin to the other wall. The limp body hit the wall and sunk to the ground, leaking brain fluids from its cracked skull.  
  
Not even glancing at the searat he had killed, Rocketh continued walking, going the rest of the way through the cavern and walking into the next tunnel. His hares followed him, stepping around the slain searat. Maxwell's muscles tensed. Where there was one searat, there would probably be others.  
  
Lord Rocketh stopped in his tracks, and cupped one paw to his ear. He only stood still for about a second before charging forward, snarling. Cries of fear came from the shadows, but Maxwell couldn't see what the badger was attacking. Nevertheless, he raised his saber and called out to his comrades.  
  
"We can't let 'im fight alone! Give 'em blood 'n' vinegar!" Maxwell dashed after Lord Rocketh, holding his saber in front of him as he charged down the dark corridor. "Eulalia!"  
  
However, Maxwell was forced to come to an abrupt halt when he finally caught up to Lord Rocketh. The badger was swinging his sword at vermin that Maxwell could barely make out, roaring fiercely and charging forward. The vermin fell out of his way, pressing their backs against the sides of the corridors and throwing themselves to the floor. Those that did not move were beheaded by Lord Rocketh.  
  
"Get 'em! Don't let any of 'em survive!" Not waiting to see if any of the other hares did as he said, Maxwell leaped at a searat that had gotten by Lord Rocketh. The vermin looked up at the Sergeant, fear in his eyes. For a moment, pity filled the hare's heart. Then, the searat picked up his scimitar from the ground and swung it at Maxwell's stomach. The hare dodged to the side, and slit the searat's throat with his saber.  
  
Unfortunately for the hares, Lord Rocketh was blocking the passageway. His sword swung from left to right, maiming vermin and knocking them to the side of the corridor. Although Rocketh's display of power was fearsome to watch, Maxwell found himself standing still with his saber hanging at his side, gaping at the spectacle.  
  
Only a few seconds passed before the badger was sent staggering backwards, swinging his sword in front of him and roaring in rage. A huge Stormrat, slightly bigger than Rocketh, charged forward with no weapon except for his own muscle. The badger swung his sword at the vermin with fierce strength, but the Stormrat jumped back, out of the way of the blade.  
  
Rocketh drew back his sword and lunged forward with an unearthly howl, bringing the blade up and pointing it toward the Stormrat's chest. The terrible rat pressed itself to the side of the corridor, letting the sword and the badger sail past him. Then, with a speed that Maxwell didn't expect from such a huge beast, it whirled toward Rocketh and struck the back of the badger's head with his paw. Rocketh fell forward, and vermin scurried away from him for fear of being caught in the battle.  
  
Maxwell, on the other paw, was brought to his senses by the sight of Lord Rocketh falling to the ground. "Get that damn rat!" Without waiting to see what the rest of the hares did, he threw himself forward with ferocity that he didn't know he had and flung himself onto the Stormrat.  
  
But before he could do anything, the beast threw Maxwell off of itself with a heave of his shoulders. Maxwell stumbled backward toward the other Long Patrollers. In their haste to move their weapons so they would not harm Maxwell, the hares at the front of the charge let the Sergeant slam into them and send them sprawling to the ground.  
  
Lord Rocketh was faring no better. Although he kept trying to use his sword to help push himself up, it wasn't enough to let him overcome the enraged Stormrat's attempts to keep him down. Although he was able to struggle free of the beast's grip on him and keep him back by kicking his footpaws out, he couldn't pull himself to a position in which he would be able to fight.  
  
He let out a howl of pain and frustration as the Stormrat's claws dug into his back again. Using a surge of energy granted to him by his Bloodwrath, he got to his feet and picked up his sword. Then, he swung it in a wide arc, intending to cleave his opponent in two.  
  
Had Lord Rocketh had his wits about him, he would not have made this fatal mistake. The blade of his sword slammed into the corridor's wall, sending vibrations up the sword's blade.  
  
Rocketh let go of his sword, and turned to face the Stormrat. But the beast was already on him, clawing at his face and kicking at his legs. He couldn't understand how it happened, but somehow he felt himself on the ground, flailing his arms and legs while the Stormrat dug his claws into Rocketh's neck.  
  
With lightning speed that nobeast as big as the Stormrat should have had, the vermin grabbed Lord Rocketh's jaw and snapped the badger's head up and to the right. The Badger Lord's neck snapped, and his struggling slowly began to subside.  
  
Sergeant Maxwell stood as still as a statue, letting his mouth hang wide open as the Stormrat rose and turned around. After trying several times to find his voice, he finally managed to let out a weak yell. "Retreat! The battle is lost!"  
  
The Stormrat stepped forward, and Maxwell felt himself regain control of his body. He glanced backwards, and after he saw that the hares were following his orders, he moved straight into the middle of the corridor to bar the Stormrat's path.  
  
"You'll have t' go through me t' get them, bucko," said Maxwell. The hare knew that he was going to die, and somehow, the knowledge made him bold. "Come 'n' get me, you chunky son of a gull! I'll show you what it's like t' fight a real battle!"  
  
The Stormrat stopped in its tracks, and then let out a loud laugh that reverberated through the corridor. The abominable beast hissed something unintelligible, grabbing the sword that Lord Rocketh had dropped and advancing slowly toward Maxwell.  
  
Although he was unable to strike a single blow on the Stormrat, Maxwell's courage didn't falter. When he dropped to the floor, felled with only one thrust of Lord Rocketh's blade, he felt only grim determination until Dark Forest took him.  
  
~~~  
  
"Lord Rocketh!" cried Candice in horror, sinking to the tunnel floor beside the body of the Badger Lord. At least fifteen vermin bodies were strewn through the corridor, along with the body of a hare, but it was the sight of her Lord lying prone on the floor that distressed her. Her paws reached out to grab one of the great beast's shoulders, and she shook him frantically.  
  
Cain knelt on the floor next to her, and examined the badger's body. "It's no use, Candice," he said, remembering his behavior toward Candice earlier and striving to make his voice comforting. "He's dead."  
  
A tear fell down the Long Patroller's face, but she stood and drew her dirk. "I'll make these vermin pay. I won't let Lord Rocketh die in vain."  
  
Gormin walked over to Candice and put a paw on her shoulder. "We'll slay them all. The vermin are probably in this mountain. We'll hunt them down, and take revenge for the beasts they killed."  
  
"They can't have gone far," said Skipper. He was knelt near the body of a hare, and was looking the corpse over as closely as Cain had Lord Rocketh's. "The blood hasn't had enough time to dry completely. Maybe we can follow them and catch them by surprise."  
  
In less than half a minute, Skipper and several of his otters had begun to continue down the tunnel. There was enough space for three otters to walk side to side, and Skipper brought two of his best slingers in front with him. Three more otters followed, and after them came Colin, Gormin, and Cain. Candice, an otter, and a mouse walked behind them, and Cain had no idea who marched further back.  
  
After walking for a very short amount of time, Skipper stopped in his tracks, and held up a hand to signal the beasts following him to do the same. "Vermin," he whispered. "Around twoscore of them. There's a really big rat there - he must be the Stormrat. He's arguing with a fox..." Skipper twisted his head around, gazing between the otters that stood behind him and trying to catch a glimpse of Gormin. "There's an open cavern ahead, so the battle won't be in an enclosed space. If we attack now, we may be able to kill them."  
  
"Then we charge," hissed Gormin. The squirrel gripped his sword and nodded to Skipper. The otter turned to face forward, and said something under his breath. The six otters in front of Cain tensed their legs, and Cain, Gormin, and Colin followed suit. Then, Skipper barked out the order to charge.  
  
When Cain emerged into the cavern, Skipper and two other otters were charging forward, and the two slingers that had been in front with Skipper were hurling their stones at the vermin. The fox that Skipper had mentioned had already vanished into the tunnel, but the Stormrat remained. And he, along with the other vermin, were rushing toward Skipper and his otters.  
  
"Redwaaall!" shouted Skipper, swinging his battleaxe at a weasel who stood in front of him. The vermin raised a sword to block the blow, but the brute strength behind Skipper's blow sent his opponent stumbling away. "I'll teach ya vermin types to mess with me mateys!"  
  
Cain brought out his own sword and leaped to the aid of an otter, who was being assaulted by a trio of vermin. A quick thrust slew a ferret, but by the time he turned to face another opponent the otter was lying prone on the ground. A searat swung a scimitar at Cain, but before the blade could pierce him, Gormin had run the beast through with his sword. The squirrel warrior ducked a blow from another vermin, and Cain hurried over to stand beside Redwall's Champion.  
  
The short hail of slingstones that the pair of otters had provided stopped now that both sides were engaged in close quarters combat. Reinforcements for the Redwallers poured from the tunnels in groups of three, rushing forward to assist their friends. Although many goodbeasts had been slain initially, the steady flood of reinforcements stopped the vermin from pushing them further back.  
  
Candice had moved to join Cain and Gormin, adding her battle cry of "Eulalia" to their calls of "Redwall" and "Mossflower". But her voice was far from the most dangerous thing she had to offer her enemies. Her dirk thrust forward and pierced vermin skin, and although she hadn't slain anybeast yet, the trio had become a veritable hurricane of fur and steel which the vermin stayed well away from.  
  
But a glimpse of Colin and a mouse fighting against three searats sent Cain spinning away from them, leaving them to fight by themselves. A violent swing of his sword cleaved through a searat's neck. With his aid, Colin and the mouse were able to regain their ground.  
  
Once it seemed that they would be able to fend for themselves, Cain looked around the cavern, hoping to see Candice and Gormin. To his immense relief, they were alive, blending with the many goodbeasts that had come through the tunnels to join the fight. He briefly noticed that the flow of reinforcements had stopped now that the cavern had become crowded.  
  
Then, a howl more fearsome than anything Cain had heard before echoed through the cavern. Goodbeast and vermin alike put down their weapons to stare at what they had been missing in the frenzy of battle.  
  
The giant Stormrat that had thrown himself toward Skipper at the beginning of the battle was staggering back, clutching at a deep gash in his stomach with one paw and holding an immense sword in another. In front of him stood Skipper, the broad blade of his battleaxe touching the ground and the steel shaft gripped tightly in his paws. The Stormrat stared at the otter with eyes full of astonishment and rage, but Skipper stood his ground. The leader of Redwall's otters bled from at least a dozen minor wounds, but he gave no indication that he felt any pain.  
  
Cain began to fear that the otter was possessed with the same Bloodwrath that seemed to fuel the Stormrat, but his suspicions were proved false when the otter stepped back. He stood straight with a firm posture and a sort of grim determination, exhibiting a discipline that nobeast under the effects of the Bloodwrath would be able to grasp. Taking a deep breath, Skipper brought his battleaxe up from the floor and brought it up over his shoulder. "Come and fight me, demon. I'll send you to Hellgates!"  
  
The Stormrat swung Lord Rocketh's sword forward, throwing all his weight behind the blow. Skipper jumped backwards and let the sword graze the air in front of him. Then, he brought the battleaxe up over his head and swung it downward, toward the vermin's neck.  
  
Skipper may have been strong, but the Stormrat was able to stop the blow with only one paw. The shaft of Skipper's battleaxe was halted by his iron grip, and the giant rat brought the sword he held back behind him.  
  
Before the vermin could strike a blow, Gormin threw himself away from Candice and toward the rat, shoving and slashing at anybeast that stood in his way, whether it was a friend or foe. Cain also began to charge toward the Stormrat. The death of a Stormrat would surely discourage these vermin, maybe render them leaderless! Then, another thought flashed into his mind, lending Cain the strength he needed to move like lightning. It was another one of these beasts who took Kelly away from me.  
  
The mouse didn't notice the near-stillness that had followed the Stormrat's scream break as he flew forward. Beasts swung their weapons and slew one another, but Cain's only concern was the immense beast that was now thrusting his sword at Skipper. Desperation added to his efforts, but it soon became clear to Cain that there was no way he would be able to reach the Stormrat in time to keep him from slaying Skipper.  
  
The Stormrat thrust the badger-forged blade toward Skipper. The otter let go of his battleaxe and leaped back, grabbing a throwing axe from his belt. He whipped it forward, sending it swinging at the Stormrat, but the weapon cut into his arm and flew onward, barely causing the beast to pause.  
  
Cain flew past Skipper and leaped into the air, swinging his sword down at the Stormrat's neck just as Skipper had done with his axe. But his target was too quick. The Stormrat caught Cain's wrist with his paw, and swung him down to the ground. He thought he felt his skull split as he hit, and by the time the vermin had thrust his sword into the mouse's stomach, Cain was too far gone to feel pain. 


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Cain couldn't move his arms. He struggled to raise his paws, just as he had hundreds of times before. But this time, he couldn't. His body was beyond his control, and the mouse felt as if his limbs were being weighed down. Cain turned his head to look at his arms. But try as he might, he could not stop his head from being as immobile as his arms were. A sudden panic gripped Cain, and he felt his chest tightening. What is this? Am I paralyzed?  
  
Then, he felt his body rising from the ground. The sensation of motion was enough to make Cain think that his body was obeying him again, but when he tried to take control of his halting steps, he could not bring his legs back under control. It was as if somebody else were in his body, and Cain's mind was just along for a ride. The mouse felt as if his heart should be beating madly, but he could control it no more than he could the rest of his body.  
  
Although he couldn't control what his body did, Cain still received information from his senses. He could see that he was walking forward along a stone path, with an immeasurable drop on each side. The air around him was cold, and aside from the sound of his footsteps padding against the path, it was silent. Cain struggled again to regain control of his body, concentrating his mind on clenching his paw. But despite his efforts, he could not make his paw obey the command.  
  
The mouse moved slowly; impossibly slowly. His body advanced forward with an agenda of its own, and he stopped trying to stay in control. Cain retreated within himself, leaving the slow walk along the narrow stone path to whatever was in control of his body. In his mind, he relived the events of his life, digging up forgotten memories of childhood friends, forgotten journeys, and an old uncertainty that he thought he had buried as he moved into adulthood. But wherever his mind wandered, he seemed to find Kelly.  
  
She had been a beautiful mouse. Flawless light brown fur and shining green eyes made her one of the most distinctive beasts he had ever lay his eyes on. Her personality had been a mixture of determination and tenderness, and she had been an unmoving constant throughout his life. He relished every memory of her, every shy look he gave her, every conversation he had with her, every minute he spent with her. The memories caused him no end of embarrassment; nobeast wanted to look back at themselves and think what an awkward youth they were.  
  
One particular memory rose to the front of Cain's mind. He had fallen down the staircase leading up to the top of one of the Abbey walls, and Kelly had went into the infirmary to steal some medicine for him. Jonwick, the mouse that had been the Infirmary Keeper at the time, was known for the roughness he showed any patients careless enough to injure themselves through their own error. So instead of letting Cain suffer the old mouse's healing, Kelly had healed him herself.  
  
Whatever will possessed Cain brought his body to a halt. Cain's head was brought up, and he found himself staring at a pair of large oaken gates. There were fine carvings in the wood depicting many different kinds of beasts. Mice, squirrels, rats, otters, ferrets, owls, great whales, and many other beasts were shown in detail on these gargantuan gates. The mouse felt small and insignificant compared to the beasts that were shown in the carvings, and he longed to reach out to the gate and trace the images with his paw.  
  
No sound accompanied the movement of the gates as they swung slowly inward. Cain couldn't see what lay ahead of him - a thick black mist shrouded the terrain beyond the gates.  
  
Despite his efforts to resist, his body pushed onward, walking through the gates and into the mist. Cain couldn't see or hear whether or not the gates had closed behind him, but something told him that he was trapped.  
  
Uncountable moments later, Cain sighted another set of gates. These were forged of the purest silver, and they were bereft of any decoration save for a pair of silver serpents mounted on top, one on each gate. But Cain's attention was quickly diverted from the gates when his head turned and he looked upon the beast that stood beside them. His breath quickened, and he took a step back and brought up his paws as if to defend himself from some attack. In the midst of his frantic flailing, it took Cain several seconds to notice that he had reclaimed control of his body.  
  
"Do not fear me, Cain," said the amber-furred badger, reaching toward the mouse with its immense paws. "I am not god nor demon. I shall not bring harm unto your soul. I am merely a judge."  
  
"A... a judge?" stammered Cain. From the regal way in which the badger held itself to the golden aura that seemed to surround it, Cain had judged the badger to be some sort of divine being. Although Abbeybeasts did not believe in any sort of demons or gods, the whispers of travelers from distant lands and the nightmarish fantasies of dibbunhood had instilled Cain with a superstitious nature. Coupled with the belief that Martin's spirit lived on in Redwall Abbey, his superstition had led him to question whether or not there were greater powers behind the occurrences of everyday life.  
  
"A mere judge," affirmed the badger. "I was chosen because of the good judgment I had shown while I walked the trials of life. I am here to judge whether or not you are worthy of entering Dark Forest. Do you believe yourself worthy, Cain of Redwall?"  
  
Cain's mind was filled with questions, about Dark Forest and the badger, but he knew that the best course of action would be to answer the badger's questions. Now that he looked more closely at it, Cain could see that the badger was serene and gentle rather than imposing and divine. But underneath that, there was a firmness that Cain did not dare trifle with.  
  
Pushing all other thoughts aside, Cain considered the badger's question. He considered himself a noble mouse, and had done what he thought right since a young age. But ever since he had lost Kelly, dark thoughts had clouded his mind and he had not cared who was harmed by his actions or demeanour. Casting aside the goodness within him, Cain had become a bitter beast, focusing his thoughts and feelings only on what he had lost.  
  
Although these considerations fueled Cain's doubts, his mind drifted to a more recent occurrence. The matter of the dead otters had been on his conscience since departing Redwall. With his rational mind, he knew that he had made the best decision in the long run, but his heart ached at the thought of what he had done to the parents of the slain otters - as well as their friends. If it had been Andrew, Cain would have died of grief.  
  
"No, I do not." Cain clenched his paws and gazed up at the badger. "I would kill anybeast that wronged me in the way I have wronged them. I've neglected my son and the rest of Redwall in my grief, and that is something I can never make up. I do not believe I am worthy of Dark Forest."  
  
Pity shone in the eyes of the badger judge, but its voice stayed firm. "You have done more good than evil, Cain. If it had not been for the efforts of you and your wife, the goodbeasts would have lost the Stormrat War. You brought happiness to Redwall in your younger seasons, although brothers and sisters of the Abbey tore it apart from within its walls. And even this sin you consider unforgivable was done for the greater good."  
  
"I may have done good, but in doing so, I have done evil," said Cain. "I cannot allow myself to enter Dark Forest."  
  
The badger shook its head sadly. "Is there nothing that will change your mind?" The badger looked deep into Cain's eyes and studied him with such scrutiny that the mouse thought his knees would give way beneath him. Finally, the badger looked away. "At least gaze into Dark Forest, Cain. Then, decide whether or not you wish to enter."  
  
Something stopped Cain from objecting. A faint tug at his heart, but it was enough to keep him silent. He reached for it, wondering what this feeling was, but his mind screamed at him to stop. Reluctantly, the mouse let his thoughts move past the feeling, and shoved it back into the recesses of his soul.  
  
The badger stepped forward and wrapped its paw around Cain's. Despite the mouse's misgivings, he allowed himself to be led forward to stand before the silver gates. The badger raised its other paw in what looked like a motion to shove the gates inward, but instead of touching the gate, the badger reached for the wall.  
  
Placing its paw along the great grey wall that separated Cain from Dark Forest. "Astinal and Venereda, I have judged this soul worthy of entering Dark Forest. Open your gates, but do not seal them."  
  
Spurred by the badger's words, the two silver serpents on the top of Dark Forest's gates seemed to come to life. Although Cain could see no movement, the serpents' eyes seemed to glow, and for a second, Cain could swear he could hear one of them hiss. Calm down Cain, you're being a fool! he berated himself. The mouse almost smiled when he was struck by the irony of allowing himself to be humiliated by his superstitious mind at the gates of Dark Forest.  
  
Slowly, the gates began to open outward. Cain was overcome by an urge to move away, and then a seemingly irresistible attraction to the region behind the gate. He was stopped from acting on either of these urges only by the judge's grip.  
  
If he strained his eyes, Cain could see past the fog that seemed to envelop this strange land and make out the misty shapes of trees. But before he could glimpse any more of what lie within, something emerged and attracted his gaze.  
  
A mousemaid with light brown fur walked forward purposefully. Green eyes were barely visible through the fog, and her mouth was curved into a small smile. Shaking free of the badger's grip, Cain rushed forward to meet her.  
  
"Kelly!" he cried. Amazement, joy, and other, indiscernible emotions flashed through Cain's mind as the mouse ran into his arms. She held him tightly, gripping him as fiercely as she ever had. Cain held her close, moving his lips but finding himself incapable of saying anything. He looked at her face, taking in her loving eyes and teasing smile. A grin began to form on Cain's face, but he stumbled backwards as his joy at reclaiming his lost love turned to shame.  
  
"I'm sorry, Kelly." Cain could barely bring himself to speak, now that he had come face to face with the mouse he loved. The burden of wrongdoing he carried had been only shame until now, to be borne and regretted, but not denied or excused. With Kelly in front of him, he desperately wanted to make up lies and tell her how well life had treated him after her death. But their love was too deep for that - Kelly would know the truth.  
  
"Ever since you've died, I've been a wreck. I spent my time alone, away from those in Redwall. I've even disregarded Andrew." Cain stopped talking when he felt tears running down his face, but continued in a rush when he realized that he would start sobbing if he didn't. "Now, I've hidden murder from the beasts at the Abbey, and doomed Gormin and myself to be exiled! I don't deserve the company of decent beasts!"  
  
The tears flowed freely now, and they were enough to blind Cain. He shut his eyes against the stinging of the tears, so he was surprised when he felt Kelly wrap her arms around him.  
  
"I know what you've done Cain, and what you've been. Bitter and lonely. But I also know what's in your heart. Love for me, and love for Andrew. Please, Cain, forgive yourself." Kelly reached her paw up to Cain's face and wiped away his tears.  
  
"I... don't know if I can, Kelly. I love you... I always have. I always will. But our Andrew... I could have done more for him. I could have treated him better. If I had not been such a fool, I wouldn't be dead. I could still be fighting for him, protecting him." Cain shook his head, and salty tears fell to the ground. "I am a terrible father."  
  
A spark of annoyance appeared in Kelly's eyes, but before she could voice her feelings Andrew felt a paw on his shoulder. Gentle but firm, the badger judge pulled him away from Kelly. Cain's wife let him go, although he could see that she longed to keep holding him. Urged by the touch of the badger, Cain turned around and looked it in the eyes.  
  
"See, Cain." The badger's voice was firm and commanding. "Look, and see what is happening."  
  
Cain lost himself in the badger's eyes. The orbs sucked him inward, and lost all sense of himself. He drifted off, and felt himself leaving. Kelly...  
  
~~~  
  
Cain stood above the ground, but below the room. Somewhere in the sky. He looked down upon the lands of Mossflower. They were strangely beautiful in the night. He turned his head to the right, and the badger was there. The badger seemed to float downward, and Cain followed. Over Redwall, his beautiful home, going to the west. A tribe of woodland ferrets slept peacefully, and through trees and rivers, Cain came upon the sight he assumed the judge wished him to see. Two mice slept peacefully in their blankets, with no sign of a campfire to have kept them worn. One was an older mouse, only slightly older than Cain, covered with dark brown fur with a noble greyish sheen. Leaning against a tree beside him was a large, sturdy sword, its blade kept concealed in a magnificent leather sheath. Beside the mouse slept a mousemaid with the same dark brown fur. She slept peacefully, and would have seemed harmless were it not for the way she gripped the short ash bow lying at her side.  
  
The badger's brought Cain around, and swung him back toward the east. Beyond the ferret tribe, and beyond Redwall. His flight began to slow, and he dropped closer to the ground. He saw his son, moving slowly forward, as if time were almost frozen for him. He was walking away from Hake's hut, returning home to Redwall. The tight features of Andrew's face indicated to Cain that something was distressing him. I know you can't see me, he thought, but at least you might feel that I am here.  
  
Again, Cain felt himself rising. This time, the badger led him toward the coast, to Salamandastron. Cain could imagine the taste of the sea spray when they reached the shore, and flew like a pair of shooting stars toward the base of Salamandastron. They saw an army, scaling the southern face of Salamandastron one by one. Their leader was a giant rat. He was not as terribly fierce as the one who had put his sword through Cain's stomach, but he moved silently, as though he was born to stalk the shadows. The Stormrat held a great sword, shining with an inner light, and its magnificence was comparable to the sword the mouse had been carrying. Cain wondered if there was some connection between the blades.  
  
To Cain's dismay, the hares further up the mountain seemed unaware of the advancing vermin. By all rights, trained Long Patrol warriors should have seen them coming. There must have been something distracting them. Looking closer at the gathered hares, Cain saw a third sword, held in a sheath at the belt of a hare who was too small for it. Although Cain couldn't make out the blade, he could sense a glowing warmth coming from it. Something told him that this sword was somehow dormant, and that in the hands of a true warrior the warmth would become a searing heat.  
  
Now, the badger took him within the mountain. The battle still raged, but time was even slower for Cain than it had been when he had looked upon his son. It appeared as if the combatants had frozen in place. The badger gestured toward the center of the cavern, where the giant Stormrat's blade still pierced his stomach. The mouse felt an obscure pain in his skull and stomach upon viewing this scene, but he shook it off as being merely a memory of this scene. He looked sadly at his own body, wishing he could have fought on instead of giving up. The Cain with the sword through his stomach seemed to be struggling in an attempt to take his last breaths, although his eyes were closed and he was sinking into oblivion. The pain in Cain's skull became just barely noticeable, and he began to feel the ghost of a sting in his stomach. Just phantoms... or was he actually feeling them?  
  
~~~  
  
Cain stumbled away from the badger, flailing his paws and attempting to regain his balance. Unfortunately, the visions were still fresh in his mind and his limbs seemed to be almost useless. He fell backwards... and into Kelly's arms. The softness of her fur was all Cain wanted to feel, but there was an elusive pain in his skull and stomach that the mouse knew he must deal with.  
  
"I need to... go back to Salamandastron," whispered Cain, in an almost apologetic voice. "I'm still alive... I can feel the pain in my body. I can do something worthwhile. I need to leave, but I'll be back."  
  
Kelly clung to Cain as he stood. But rather than holding him back, they were supporting him. "I'll help you," she whispered into his ear. "No matter how hard it gets, I won't let you through the gates of Dark Forest until you accomplish what you set out to do."  
  
"But I will join you, when I do what I need to. I love you, Kelly," said Cain. Then, he grit his teeth, and began to struggle away from Dark Forest's gates. Through the mists that seemed to cover this strange land, through the oaken gates he had passed through on his way to the second pair of gates, onto a stone path with a seemingly bottomless drop on either side. The pain increased with each step, but Cain had only to bring to his mind thoughts of Andrew to push himself onward. And beside him, Kelly pushed him forward, lovingly but firmly. Whenever Cain felt as if he could go no further, Kelly urged him onward. Whenever it felt to Cain that he was being drawn back to Dark Forest, Kelly braced him until the sensation passed.  
  
At the end of the stone path, a bright light seemed to be waiting for Cain. "This is where I leave you," said Cain, squeezing Kelly's paw. He smiled to himself when he felt her return squeeze, and then struggled forward. "I'll see you soon," he whispered, hoping Kelly could hear him. Then, Cain stepped into the light.  
  
~~~  
  
His skull was cracked, and there was a sword through his stomach. Waves of pain passed through Cain's body, and it took all his strength not to give up the consciousness he had worked so hard to attain. The mouse forced his eyelids open, and although the only light in the cavern was the faint flickering of torches, it stung his vision.  
  
Not allowing himself time to take in the sensations that assailed his senses, Cain fought his way forward, toward the Stormrat. He didn't care that he was sliding himself along the beast's immense blade; it was as if some phantom beast were helping him stand. Kelly. When he judged himself close enough, Cain lifted his sword over his shoulder. His eyes were blinded by a haze of pain, but although he could not see his foe he could feel the blade that punctured his stomach jerking as the Stormrat attempted to take it out to defend himself, but the mouse refused to give in to panic. Now... strike.  
  
With all the strength he had left in him, he swung his sword through the air. He felt the sword cut through flesh and muscle. Then the blade met solid bone, and for a moment Cain was afraid that he wasn't strong enough. But his weapon cleaved through the Stormrat's spine, and went on to travel through the rest of the monster's neck.  
  
Immense relief overwhelmed Cain even as he sunk to the ground and let pain overwhelm his senses. The final earthly sound he heard above the din of battle was the wet splash as the head of the Stormrat he had been fighting struck the ground.  
  
Leaving the battle at Salamandastron behind him, Cain fell backwards into Kelly's arms. This time, the embrace was final. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Skipper stood as still as a statue, watching in a state of amazement as Cain's sword cleaved its way through the neck of the Stormrat. Only a moment before, the mouse had tried to leap the hideous beast from behind in an attempt to save Skipper's life. The otter had escaped unscathed, but only because he had dropped his battleaxe and scrambled away from the Stormrat's blow.  
  
Cain hadn't been so lucky. The giant rat had caught the mouse in midair, and with all of his considerable strength, flung Cain to the ground. Skipper had been certain that he heard the poor beast's skull crack when it struck the ground, and any hope of his survival had vanished when the Stormrat thrust his sword through Cain's stomach. All of Skipper's willpower seemed to vanish in that moment. He had never been particularly fond of Cain, but the mouse had been one of Redwall's greatest warriors. If the Stormrat was able to kill him so easily, what chance did Skipper have against this monstrosity?  
  
Then, the unthinkable happened. Only a second after the Stormrat's sword pierced Cain's flesh, the mouse opened his eyes, squinted, and began to rise to his feet. At first, the giant vermin had been to astonished to fight back, but as Cain moved slowly and surely toward the Stormrat and brought his sword over his shoulder, the huge rat tried to pull his sword out of Cain's stomach. He wasn't fast enough. With a strength that Skipper had never seen a mouse display, Cain brought his sword down on the Stormrat's neck.  
  
Cain's opponent let out a fearful scream even more forceful than the one the rat had uttered when Skipper sliced open its stomach. The brave mouse didn't seem to notice, however, and kept his blade moving through the Stormrat's neck. The sword's movement seemed to slow as it neared the center of the neck, but Cain grit his teeth and seemed to focus all his strength on the sword. Slowly, the blade cut through the monster's spine. After cleaving through this barrier of bone, Cain's sword easily passed through the rest of the muscle and flesh in the Stormrat's neck.  
  
The giant was sent tumbling to the ground, its severed head landing first, with a squishy plop that made Skipper gag. The immense body of the Stormrat fell beside it. At the same moment, Cain's knees gave way beneath him, and the mouse sank to the ground.  
  
It was as if the mouse's fall broke some enchantment that had taken hold of Skipper. The otter rushed forward, ignoring the wounds inflicted on him by the now-dead behemoth and the metallic clash of steel against steel that filled the cavern. Passing by his battleaxe with hardly a thought, he knelt down next to Cain and gently straightened the warrior's limp body. Skipper had known that Cain was dead the moment the mouse fell, but the sight of his body sprawled awkwardly on the cavern floor and the loose, unresisting feel of it as Skipper attempted to lie the body down in what would be a comfortable position confirmed that Cain was lost.  
  
The high pitched sound of steel slicing through the air behind his head was the only thing that informed Skipper of a swift and lethal attack. The otter reached out for Cain's paws, and removed the sword they held. Skipper leapt to his feet, spun around and swung Cain's sword in an attempt to intercept a blow that, although not aimed highly enough off the ground to decapitate the standing otter, still had the ability to carve a deadly gouge into his flesh.  
  
A harsh ring sounded out as the weapons clashed, and Skipper's strength and the desperation that fueled it sent his attacker reeling away from him. The vermin who attacked him - a muscular searat - seemed to regret choosing Skipper as a target now that the otter wasn't helpless. Licking his lips, the rat took a careful step forward, swinging his blade cautiously at Skipper. The otter caught the blow easily with Cain's sword, and Skipper Skipper lashed out with his rudder and swept the searat's legs out from under him. Almost valiantly, the searat rolled toward Skipper and straightened himself, but a slash of Cain's sword cut a deep gash in the beast's stomach. With a cry of pain, the rat stepped back and clutched his wound. A brief surge of pity assailed Skipper's heart, but the memory of Cain's limp body was fresh in his head and gave him all the incentive he needed to dispatch the rat.  
  
Glancing at the searat now dead at his feet, Skipper backed up. Over half the vermin were dead now - less than a score remained fighting the continuous onslaught of the Redwallers. Gormin, who had sped to Skipper's aid while he fought the Stormrat, had the upper paw in a duel with a courageous stoat. Near the exit of the cavern, Candice, Colin, and two mice charged toward a gathering of five vermin. It dawned on Skipper that those five beasts were among the last of twoscore beasts sent to stop the Redwallers. As brief as this skirmish may have been, it was a victory. The Redwallers had come out on top.  
  
Skipper cupped a paw to his mouth and called out in the loudest voice he could manage. "Lay down your weapons, vermin, and your lives will be spared!" To his dismay, the noise of battle, although dying, still managed to drown out his cry. The otter watched stoically as the last of the vermin were slain, wondering if these final casualties could have been avoided but not giving much thought to the idea before dismissing it as unimportant.  
  
When the last foe fell and the cries of battle had faded, Gormin raised his paws into the air to attract the attention of the Redwallers. Some stared at him expectantly, their eyes betraying weariness and fatigue. Others shuffled excitedly, not quite believing what had happened and eager for more. Those who had lost friends wept silently, knowing that this respite would be their only opportunity for some time to mourn them.  
  
"We must press onward!" cried Gormin, projecting his voice so even those who were still outside the cavern could hear him. "This mountain's Badger Lord is dead, but the Long Patrol may yet be alive! We need to pursue the vermin and make them suffer for what they've done!"  
  
The beasts that had fought organized themselves, preparing to continue through Salamandastron's tunnels. Skipper retrieved his battleaxe, and placed Cain's sword by the dead warrior's body. Cain's son, Andrew, may have wanted the sword, but Skipper thought it far more likely that Andrew would have preferred his father to take his weapon to the grave.  
  
Skipper strode toward Gormin, who was standing at the front of the column, prepared to lead the Redwallers into yet another battle. His heart tightened as he passed the corpses of two otters, but he allowed nothing but fierce determination to show on his face.  
  
"Ready?" Gormin asked quietly when Skipper reached his side. Not only was the squirrel warrior's voice filled with determination, Skipper could hear a promise of vengeance in the single word he spoke. It was not a tone of voice which he would expect to hear from great warriors such as Martin or Matthias. Skipper shook his head and shoved that thought aside.  
  
"Yes, I'm ready," confirmed Skipper. He, Gormin, and the other Redwallers resumed their march.  
  
~~~  
  
Danni ran as quickly as her legs would carry her, trying to catch up to the army marching through Salamandastron. She knew that the vermin who made up this attack force would be fine without her help, but she felt an urgent desire to be in control of the coming battle. Sunai was relying on this attack to take control of the mountain, and although Danni would not make much of a difference in the battle that was to come, she would never forgive herself if the Stormbringer lost because she was not there to assist his soldiers.  
  
Less than a minute passed before she could make out the shape of several beasts marching forward through the tunnels. Danni's argument with Meist had seemed to take forever, but it seemed that it had taken less time to convince him to stay behind than Danni had guessed. The brutish Stormrat had been unwilling to stay behind to guard that cavern, but Danni had insisted. After all, the badger and the other hares had been ready to attack them - there was nothing to guarantee that other hares wouldn't try to take them from behind.  
  
"There's nobeast your brother would choose for this duty over you. You slew a badger. You're an exceptional warrior." Danni had attempted to both flatter him and call on whatever awe Meist held his brother in. Another beast might have seen through her words, but Meist wasn't another beast. Meist was Meist - huge, fearsome, prone to fits of unreasoning rage, and none too intelligent.  
  
Which was exactly why Danni wished to leave him behind. Aside from the Long Patrol, Meist was the greatest threat to the plan Sunai had described to her. In battle, Meist attacked regardless of whether his target was friend or foe. He was as dangerous to the Stormbringer's own warriors as he was to the enemy.  
  
Beasts moved aside swiftly to allow the vixen to pass them. Every one of them recognized that she was in charge of this attack. After several minutes of moving between Sunai's fighters, she reached the front of the column.  
  
"Are we going in the right direction?" she asked, drawing up beside the beast who was leading the column. He was a stout weasel, physically fit and seemingly cunning. Danni couldn't recall seeing him before, which wasn't surprising, since she didn't associate with many beasts aside from Sunai and the beasts he trusted. This weasel, though, had the look of an excellent commander. Maybe she could find out his name and notify Sunai.  
  
"I'm pretty sure we are," said the weasel, keeping his voice low and respectful. "Th' tunnel seems t' be headin' upwards - unless my sense o' direction is deceivin' me, we're headed straight toward where the Stormbringer asked us to attack."  
  
"Alright," said Danni, nodding her head in satisfaction. "Just one more question - what's your name?"  
  
"M' name is Esmiel," said the weasel. "Why do y' ask?"  
  
Danni suppressed a smile. "I like to know the names of the beasts I'll be working with. You're to lead these fighters into battle. Perform well today, and I'll see that you're rewarded." If you're as capable as I think you are, thought Danni, Sunai will consider your presence here at Salamandastron a reward.  
  
"Thank y', ma'am," said Esmiel. "I'll do m' best, for the glory of the Stormbringer." Somehow, Danni could sense sincerity behind those words. It fueled her conviction that Esmiel could be made into a reliable commander, and, more importantly, one that Sunai could trust. As disciplined as the Stormbringer's soldiers were, they were still vermin, with all the savage tendencies that set them apart from woodlanders. Anybeast who could be trusted was to be valued - and Esmiel seemed loyal and honest enough that Danni was sure the Stormbringer would value his contribution to his forces.  
  
~~~  
  
Other than a short walk to dispel the restlessness from his footpaws, Merlin hadn't let his attention stray from the dark shoreline. He clutched his longbow in both paws. A quiver of arrows sat on the ground next to him, and Salamander was worn across his shoulders, in a sheath which was kept in position by leather straps. He had tried keeping Salamander sheathed at his belt, but it had been unwieldy to keep the blade hanging from his waist to the ground. Lord Rocketh had presented him with the sheath shortly before talking with Sergeant Maxwell without a word, and up until about a minute ago Merlin hadn't been aware that the straps on the sheath were designed so he could wear the sword over his back..  
  
Colonel Jeffrey moved back and forth among the Long Patrol hares, asking whether they had noticed any movement and looking over their shoulders down the mountainside. Although he kept his voice steady and his movements firm, Merlin was sure that he was nervous. But then, so was he, and every other hare present on the mountainside.  
  
Jeffrey came to a stop behind Merlin. The younger hare turned his head to look at his superior. "Have y' seen anything outta th' ordinary?" asked Jeffrey. Merlin shook his head. "Are y sure?" pressed the colonel. "No movement on th' shoreline? No beasts climbin' th' mountainside?"  
  
"No, sah," answered Merlin. "Everythin' seems alright."  
  
Jeffrey moved on, continuing to survey the shoreline and questioning the hares that stood as sentinels. So intent was he on keeping the vermin on the shoreline from attacking, he failed to notice what was occurring behind him until it was almost too late.  
  
"Sah! Colonel Jeffrey!" shouted a hare, who had just emerged from Salamandastron's tunnels. More hares followed her. Merlin couldn't get an exact count, but he guessed that the group ranged from ten to twenty beasts.  
  
"Yes, what is it?" asked Jeffrey, whirling around and focusing his attention on this hare. The beast, although not panting for breath, seemed as if she had been running for some time. Forgetting his duty to watch the shoreline, Merlin watched and listened as Jeffrey spoke with the hare.  
  
"Vermin are coming through th' tunnels!" exclaimed the Long Patroller. "A giant rat slew Lord Rocketh, an' Sergeant Maxwell stayed behind t' fight it. He mus' be dead, 'cause the rest o' our soldiers were picked off by vermin."  
  
"Damn!" exclaimed Jeffrey. He turned around to address those hares that hadn't already turned to listen. "Forget about th' mountainside! Vermin are comin' through th' blinkin' tunnels!"  
  
The Long Patrollers, almost as one, turned away from the mountainside and reached for their quivers. This response came too late. By the time the hares had arrows nocked to their bowstrings, beasts were rushing out from the tunnel toward them. Merlin strained his muscles, drawing back the bowstring of his longbow as far as he could. Aiming as carefully as he could in the darkness, he released the bowstring, sending an arrow plunging through the night toward the opening to the tunnel.  
  
Merlin didn't know whether or not his arrow hit. A flurry of arrows shot out from the hares gathered on the mountain, but most either overshot their marks or fell short of the vermin. Those missiles that did strike their targets brought down the first some of the charging vermin, but the enemy kept pressing forward, paying no heed to their fallen comrades. Merlin shot another arrow and had the satisfaction of seeing it pierce the chest of a burly searat. Arrows from the hares gathered on the mountainside shot forward, and at least twoscore vermin must have fallen.  
  
The hare was about to reach for another arrow, but the vermin were rushing toward the hares too quickly. Knowing that they would be close enough to fight paw to paw in the next few seconds, Merlin discarded his longbow and reached over his shoulder and gripped Salamander's hilt. The sword might be his, but that didn't mean that Merlin couldn't use it to fight. With one powerful tug, he yanked the sword free from its sheath. Gripping the weapon in both paws, Merlin brought it up in front of him and waited for the enemies to approach him.  
  
He didn't have to wait long. A weasel and a searat sprung toward him, and Merlin brought up Salamander to defend himself. The sword was difficult to fight with, and Merlin found himself struggling to parry the blows his opponents rained on him. The searat slashed at Merlin with his scimitar, and only the realization that he was fighting for his life and protecting Salamandastron from the Stormrats gave him enough strength to fend off the searat.  
  
However, he could not fight both the weasel and the searat at the same time. Not with Salamander as his weapon. Merlin would have fought with his dirk, but he was not yet used to moving with the weight of Salamander on his back, and that would have slowed down his movements. As far as he could see, it was better to move slowly with a large weapon than to move slowly with a smaller weapon. But he began to regret his choice of weapon as the weasel's staff began to move past Salamander and pepper him with stinging blows.  
  
If it weren't for his promise to Lord Rocketh, he would have cast Salamander aside and fought with his dirk. But he felt bound by the badger's words, and felt that throwing away the blade the Badger Lord had crafted, even for a moment, would be betraying him. So he fought stubbornly, thrusting and parrying with Salamander even when it became apparent that the sword wasn't the right weapon for the job. Despite his best efforts, Merlin's muscles began to ache, and his blows became slower and more sluggish.  
  
Just as Merlin was about to say his prayers, a blade thrust through the chest of the searat. Not bothering to see who his rescuer was, he switched his focus from the searat to the weasel, bringing up Salamander's blade just in time to block a strike from his staff. The weasel recovered quickly, drawing back his staff for another blow. Merlin strained his muscles, lifting Salamander back over his shoulder. The weasel whipped his staff across the hare's stomach, but Merlin wasn't fazed by the stinging blow. With one final test of his strength, he brought Salamander down on the weasel, slicing through the vermin's shoulder. When the blade reached the weasel's heart, Merlin drew it back, letting his enemy slump to the ground.  
  
"Nice," said a voice behind him. Merlin turned to look at the speaker, letting Salamander's blade slump to the ground. He recognized the speaker as the hare who had alerted Colonel Jeffrey of the approaching vermin. Judging by her bloody dirk and the searat dead at her feet, she was the one who had saved him.  
  
"Thank y', marm," said Merlin, placing Salamander's point on the ground and letting the blade lean against him. "Would y' mind protectin' me for a couple seconds? I'll be with y' when I get my dirk out." The hare nodded, and turned away to fight off the vermin.  
  
His paws trembling from the excitement of battle, Merlin slid out of the straps that held the sheath on his back in place. Bringing the sheath in front of him, Merlin carefully lifted Salamander and placed it in the sheath. Placing the straps over his shoulders once again, Merlin stood with Salamander strapped to his back. Drawing his dirk from his belt, the Long Patroller hurried to assist the hare that had helped him.  
  
"I'm not sure I got your name," said Merlin, moving to stand beside the hare. Maneuvering with Salamander on his back was not as difficult as he had feared, but he still wished that he was unencumbered by the sword's weight.  
  
"It's Mianel," answered the hare, thrusting her dirk out at a searat who stepped in front of her. She fought with the ferocity of a seasoned Long Patroller, swiftly parrying the rat's blows with her dirk. Realizing that he was outmatched, the searat stepped back, holding his cutlass out to ward off Mianel. She was content to let this vermin escape, and turned to a fox that was making his way toward Merlin. He held a dagger in each paw, and more weapons hung from the belt at his waist.  
  
Gesturing toward the fox with a nod of her head, Mianel turned again to face an approaching stoat. Merlin and Mianel were now back to back, facing an onslaught of attackers from the tunnels. Other hares fought along the mountainside with varying degrees of success. But none of them were prepared for what happened next.  
  
~~~  
  
Sunai leapt over the outcropping of rock that separated him from the battle. It had been a long climb up the side of Salamandastron, and it had been difficult having to remain silent and unseen for more than half the time it took to reach the hares. But despite the energy he had spent coming up the mountain, the Stormbringer was ready to fight. So were the thirty vermin he had chosen to climb up the mountain with him.  
  
Stormbringer sliced through the air and ended its short journey with a thud as the blade dug into a hare's side. The beast staggered, attempting to turn around to face his attacker, but a brutal kick from Sunai sent him sprawling. There was no time to make sure this beast ended up dead, but the Stormrat rusted that one of his soldiers would put the beast out of its misery.  
  
Looking at the commotion taking place on the mountainside, Sunai was pleased to note that Danni had carried out his plan as effectively as he hoped she would. Her attack had taken the Long Patrol by surprise, and distracted them enough to allow Sunai and the other climbers to hasten up the mountain. Now, they would be trapped between two parts of his army, unable to escape and forced to fight to the death.  
  
The Stormrat looked only briefly over his shoulder, noting that his warriors were beginning to haul themselves over the mountainside as he had just done. His eyes moved beyond them, to the shore. Laskit would be moving now, directing the rest of his troops to follow Sunai and the other climbers into battle.  
  
Snapping his head forward again, Sunai charged into battle, swinging his sword with a plain fury that would have frightened any hare that was looking his way. But by the time they realized that there was a threat approaching from behind, Stormbringer had been thrust through a hare's heart and was already being withdrawn.  
  
"Stormrat!" cried a hare that had been standing next to the beast Sunai had just slain. "Attack from behind! The Stormrats are -" Sunai impaled this hare in the same manner as he had the previous one, relishing the fear in his enemy's eyes. His adversary opened his mouth as if in shock, and Sunai grinned wickedly at the Long Patroller. He wanted the triumphant expression on his face to be the last worldly thing this hare ever saw.  
  
As soon as the hare's eyes rolled up into his head, Sunai pressed a footpaw against his chest and pushed the hare off his blade. Red blood was smeared across Stormbringer, but Sunai didn't mind. His only regret was that he wouldn't be able to relish the death of every hare he faced. Now that the Long Patrol would be alerted to his presence, he would have to fight with care.  
  
Two more hares ran toward him, screaming the war cry of Salamandastron. Swiftly, Sunai brought Stormbringer's blade up in front of him, and waited for the hares to attack. One of them slashed at him with his dirk, but Sunai easily sidestepped the blow. The other hare, bolder than his companion, charged at Sunai, screaming incoherently and attacking fiercely with his saber. Sunai blocked the first few blows without trouble, but when the hare's companion joined the attacker, the Stormbringer began to find it difficult to hold his ground.  
  
Retreating might have been a wise move, but Sunai would not allow these hares the satisfaction of seeing him falter. With a ferocity born from pride and thoughts of his dead father, the Stormrat redoubled his efforts, battering both hares with blows from Stormbringer. The sword was easily double the weight of either hare's saber, and the strength of the beast wielding the blade was great enough to drive both hares backward.  
  
After delivering a crushing blow to one of the hare's feeble sabers with his sword, Sunai dropped his weapon and dove for his enemy. The hare was caught completely by surprise, and could do nothing but soften his landing with an extended paw. With a roar of fury, Sunai raked his claws across the hare's face. Screaming in pain, the Long Patroller reached both paws up to clutch at the wounds, which were gushing blood. Resisting the temptation to continue attacking this helpless target, Sunai turned around to face the other hare.  
  
It was only because of his swift reflexes that Sunai did not end up with a gouged out eye. When he saw the saber sweeping toward his face, the Stormrat had only a second to twist his head to the side and let the blade cut deep into the side of his face instead. Warm blood began to flow down Sunai's cheek, slipping easily over his fur and leaving deep red stains. But he paid no attention to the sting, or the blood. Sunai leapt up while this hare was still unprepared, and slammed his skull into the beast's face. The hare stumbled away from him with a pained whimper, and Sunai turned his attention again to the other hare, who was beginning to climb to his feet. A swift kick sent him down to the ground again, and Sunai leaped back to where he had left Stormbringer unattended on the ground. Wrapping both paws around its hilt, he dashed toward the hare who he had slammed his head into. A swing of Sunai's sword sent the hare to the ground, clutching at his bleeding throat. The other hare received a stab in the chest, an assurance that he would plague Sunai no more.  
  
Sunai heard the sound of metal slicing through air, and moved away from where the noise had come from. He saw a weasel, taking another dagger from his belt and looking beyond his leader. Turning, Sunai saw the beast the weasel had targeted. A fat hare clutched at a dagger hilt protruding from his stomach, glaring angrily at the weasel. Stepping back and turning his attention away from this battle, the rat sought out new targets.  
  
The first battle to catch his eye was between two hares and an assortment of his own soldiers. The hares stood back-to-back, each holding a dirk and holding off their attackers. One of the hares, a male, had a sword the size of Stormbringer strapped to his back. Something about the weapon gave him chills. He moved to join the efforts of the vermin attempting to slay the pair of hares, but before he could reach them, a more pressing concern came to his ears.  
  
A noise seemed to be coming from a hole in the wall. Sunai had not been present to witness the arrival of his troops, but he assumed that they had come through that tunnel. The sound became more clear to his ears, and although he could not hear it exactly over the din of battle, he heard it closely enough to recognize it from the Stormrat War.  
  
The noise came from a group of beasts growing larger by the minute. Sunai couldn't see them through the shadows, but he could imagine them in specific detail. Woodlanders all of them, the beasts stood together and struck what they must have imagined resembled a noble pose. "Redwall!" they cried, and sprung forward, attempting to bring Sunai's carefully laid plans crumbling to the ground. 


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Danni darted between everybeast around her, dodging between friend and foe and thrusting her dagger at any vulnerable hare. None had fallen to her attacks so far, but the blows she struck were meant to be crippling rather than fatal. Seeing a trio of hares making their stand and defending each others' sides, Danni ran forward, ducked under a ferret's arm, and sliced her dagger across one of the hare's legs. She was pleased to hear her target inhale sharply as the  
  
The vixen whirled around and sprung back into the ranks of her own troops before the hares could catch her. Only a second after beginning her retreat, she spun around yet again and beheld the battle around her. Although it was hard to tell among the commotion of battle and the darkness of night, Danni felt that she and the other vermin were slowly being pushed back by the hares. If they were to succeed, Sunai's plans would amount to nothing. Gritting her teeth, Danni glided between the vermin moving forward to meet the hares. Something would have to change.  
  
"For the Stormbringer!" A sharp cry cut through the shouts of fury and clash of blades that echoed across the black night. Snapping her head in the direction of the call, Danni witnessed the weasel she had spoken to before the battle had begun rushing forward to meet the Long Patrollers, brandishing a stout wooden staff with an iron tip.  
  
Esmiel, as she remembered the weasel was called, was accompanied by about five other vermin. They moved swiftly, bringing their weapons to bear against the awaiting hares with deadly efficiency. Here, the hares faltered in their charge, brought to a halt and turned around by Esmiel and his companions. If Sunai's other soldiers were like him, the vermin would be able to take the fight to the hares. There was no question in Danni's mind - if both she and Esmiel survived the battle, Sunai was hearing about this weasel.  
  
The vixen darted forward again, this time to lend aid to four of her troops fighting against a greater number of hares. The Long Patrollers fought perilously, slicing with their blade and lashing out with their limbs in an insane flurry of blows. Danni was amazed that Sunai's vermin could stand up to this.  
  
Despite the blind fury of both sides, not many beasts had yet fallen. An occasional blow forced its way through some unlucky Long Patroller or vermin's defenses, delivering a fatal blow. But for the most parts, both sides were evenly matched - the hares might be driving Danni's forces back, but not many beasts were dying. A few of the vermin had even managed to worm their way among the hares in groups of five or six.  
  
It was the hares, not Sunai himself, who told Danni that the tide had turned. "Stormrat!" came a cry that the vixen could barely make out through the fighting. She couldn't see what was happening, but she could imagine it in the eye of her mind - Sunai leaping over the edge with Stormbringer in paw, followed by over a score of soldiers. That was the plan, and it had worked!  
  
Danni felt fresh hope arise in her heart. The hare's surprised call brought on a fierce spark of determination in the vixen; she was filled with the need to slay her opponents, and yet she wanted to skip with joy. Their time has come! she wanted to scream, and it took all her will to keep from doing so. Their time has come at last!  
  
All this emotion was released in a whoop of triumph, and Danni dashed among her troops and charged the foe. Thrust, slash, dodge, dance back. The process never seemed to end, but she didn't care. Danni was lost to the thrill of battle, and her mind had been overrun by a rush of fierce emotion. With each blow she dodged, she became faster. After every lunge and stab, she became more precise. In this state of mind, Danni couldn't know that her troops were rallying behind her, inspired by her passion. Nor could she know that her blows, although not swift enough to strike her foes dead, had pushed the hares back, with their weapons raised in front of their faces in an attempt to defend themselves.  
  
Danni had just reeled back. A hare's scimitar missed the side of her face by less than the breadth of her paw. She wasn't fazed in the least. The vixen ducked her head down and sprung forward, her dagger gripped in both paws. She shoved the blade into the hare's stomach, and felt blood spill onto her paws. Without pause, she pulled the blade upward. There was a sickening slicing noise as the dagger cut through the hare's fur and flesh.  
  
Danni's foe let out a scream of pain, and fell to his knees. She danced out of his reach, almost tauntingly. Freeing one hand from her dagger and grinning darkly, the fox prepared to end this hare's life with one thrust.  
  
The mindless haze that had overcome Danni was broken in an instant. "Redwall!" came a shout from behind her. Heedless of the hare kneeling on the ground behind her, she turned to stare at the source of a noise. It was a group of woodlanders, faintly visible through the shadow. "So close," she hissed, and squeezed her dagger with the one paw that still held it.  
  
As if to confirm her growing dread, the woodlanders called out again. "Redwall!" they howled, and sprung down to engage the suddenly trapped vixen and her soldiers.  
  
Gormin had been willing to halt at the end of the tunnel as Redwallers gathered around him, surveying the situation and waiting for his troops to gather. The fighting didn't seem to be swinging either way, so he was content to let the Long Patrol do their work.  
  
That changed when the vermin scrambled over the edge of Salamandastron. Redwallers were still filing out of the tunnel in a neat, orderly line - nowhere near ready to assist the hares fighting off the Stormrat's horde. Gritting his teeth, Gormin put a paw on the hilt of his longsword, telling himself over and over again to wait. To charge now, before the Redwallers were prepared, would be a mistake. He knew this.  
  
The squirrel warrior shoved his doubts to the back of his mind, and raised his free paw into the air. The other Redwallers saw his signal. Paws loosened their grips on weapons, and tense beasts let the thrill of battle seep out of their consciousness to a place just outside their hearts, ready to be grabbed at a moment's notice. But even Gormin, one of the most disciplined of the Redwallers, couldn't completely contain this feeling. His tension was invisible to the beasts around him, but the squirrel felt as if he were going to leap out of his skin. Thankfully, none of the other beasts were able to detect this - with the possible exception of Skipper and the few beasts who had let the experiences of the Stormrat War harden their will, the Redwallers were held in check by Gormin's calmness.  
  
And so Gormin stared at the fighting as the tide turned in the vermin's favor, accompanied by warriors who were itching to rush into battle. With every blow that he witnessed, the urge to charge forward grew. But he held himself in check, and under normal circumstances, would have been able to stay calm until all the Redwallers had exited the tunnel.  
  
It was the carelessness of a young hare, new to the Long Patrol and in her first real battle, that caused Gormin to charge early. The hare was cut down by a weasel as she turned to make a remark to one of her companions. In truth, Gormin's focus was elsewhere, and even if he had seen this he probably would not have charged. But Candice saw it.  
  
"Eulalia!" howled Candice. The enraged hare shoved past Gormin and dashed toward the battle. She was a blur of movement as she ran, empty-handed one instant and wielding a dirk in the next. "Eulaliaaa!" she cried again. It was the cry of a beast who had lost all sense of self-preservation and would die without a second thought just for the chance to plunge a dirk into the chest of her foe.  
  
Gormin didn't even try to remain calm - his resolve snapped. Drawing his sword with one paw and then raising it above his head, gripped in both paws, he turned to the rest of the Redwallers. "Redwaaaall!" he screamed, his voice louder than Candice's cries of vengeance had been. Woodlander eyes met Gormin's, and there was no doubt about what their leader wanted them to do.  
  
"Redwaaaaall!" they cried, and descended on their foe.  
  
Merlin felt Mianel's weight slump against his back, and for a moment he thought she had been killed. But then he felt Mianel draw herself up and lash out at yet another enemy. Grimacing, the young hare parried a blow with his dirk. His instincts told him to press the attack, but with Salamander on his back such an attempt would be futile.  
  
Not to mention that doing that would leave Mianel defenseless. Merlin pressed himself against her back, parrying yet another blow with his blade. He could feel her smooth movements, parrying blows more effectively than him. Although they were surrounded by vermin, only a few scratches had penetrated their defense. Giving himself a moment of reprieve, Merlin stopped concentrating on the weasel stabbing at him long enough to allow one thought to flash across his mind: I'm invincible!  
  
The thought vanished in a haze of pain as the weasel in front of Merlin stabbed him in the side. The hare's eyes widened, and he let out a gasp of surprise and pain. Mianel tensed up and fought even more fiercely when she heard Merlin's gasp. An amused smile came to his lips - her redoubled efforts wouldn't make any difference at all to him unless they were directed against his attacker. Then he saw the weasel's scimitar slicing through the air in front of his head.  
  
Merlin swung his free paw out to grasp the weasel's wrist. Miraculously, the hare's firm grip was enough to stop the scimitar from striking him. Then he kicked the weasel in the stomach, sending the beast sprawling. Pressing himself more firmly against Mianel's back, Merlin continued to fight.  
  
Not even half a minute had passed before he heard the sound of steel slicing through flesh. Mianel cried out in pain, and Merlin winced at the sound. He continued to parry the blows directed at him by vermin, and hoped fiercely that his companion would be able to fight off her opponent.  
  
A rat pierced Merlin's shoulder with the tip of his rapier. The hare howled, and lashed out at the vermin's arm with his dirk. The blade pierced the rat's fur and skin, ripping a gash down his arm. Merlin's foe pulled away and closed his eyes, tears of pain seeping through the lids. Blood began to spill out of the wound left b the rapier, but the pain was pushed to the back of his mind when he felt Mianel fall to the ground behind him.  
  
Disregarding his own safety, Merlin spun around to see the female hare faceup on the ground, staring up at the vermin around her. Only her forepaws held her up, and her dirk was on the ground next to one of them. As Merlin watched, Mianel lashed out at the vermin around her with her footpaws. Her left footpaw connected with a stoat's stomach, and the surprised beast landed on his back. In the same second, her right footpaw shot up and connected with a ferret's wrist, sending the dagger the vermin had been holding flying out of his grip.  
  
"Watch it!" yelled a voice from behind Merlin. Instinctively, he ducked, and felt the air where his neck had been part before a sharp blade. Turning his ducking motion into a whirl, Merlin put his back to Mianel and brought his dirk up in time to see a scimitar pierce the stomach of the weasel he had kicked away from himself earlier. The vermin fell to his knees, and a gallant hare withdrew his blade from the corpse.  
  
"Keep your guard up, wot wot!" said the hare. The rescuer and his two companions pressed forward, driving away the vermin who had been surrounding Merlin and Mianel.  
  
Mianel stopped her flurry of kicks and let herself slump to the ground. With one paw, she grabbed her dirk. Then she rolled over and pushed herself up with her free hand. Once again, she pressed herself up against Merlin's back, prepared to defend herself. But to the great relief of both hares, their rescuers had drawn the attention of the vermin to themselves.  
  
"We ought t' help them," said Mianel breathlessly.  
  
Merlin nodded, and when it dawned on him that she couldn't see the gesture, he responded, "Alright. Let's drive those flippin' vermin off our mountain!"  
  
The pair made ready to assist their rescuers, but before they could move, a voice shouted out to them. "Come over this way!" called out a voice Merlin could barely manage to identify as Colonel Jeffrey's. Merlin glanced in the direction of the voice, and was treated to the sight of the Colonel and three other hares fighting off a small group of vermin that was harassing them. As Jeffrey shoved a vermin away from him, he turned to Merlin and gestured urgently.  
  
He didn't need any more encouragement. Merlin tugged Mianel's arm urgently and ran toward Colonel Jeffrey. With only a second's hesitation, Mianel turned around and followed Merlin.  
  
In less than ten seconds, the pair had joined the Colonel and the hares who accompanied him. Mianel flew into battle alongside one of those hares, catching a ferret completely by surprise and shoving her dirk into his chest. Merlin, on the other hand, moved cautiously, eyeing the vermin and waiting for them to attack him.  
  
"Eulaliaaa!" whooped Colonel Jeffrey, waving his rapier in the air in front of his face. "Charge! Attack! Show those rotten blighters no mercy!"  
  
Merlin forgot about waiting for an attack from the vermin, and charged forward, dirk in hand. Mianel redoubled her efforts, ducking, weaving, kicking, parrying, and slashing with her dirk. Foebeasts backed away from her, holding up their weapons uncertainly.  
  
Colonel Jeffrey's hares also fought on fiercely and recklessly, leaving themselves open to attack in their efforts to drive the vermin away. One hare thrust his rapier forward, hoping that the tip of his weapon would slip through the ribs of the searat he fought. His foe, quicker than the hare had anticipated, sidestepped the attack and brought his cutlass down on the hare's back. The Long Patroller fell to the ground, letting out a gasp of pain. He tried to struggle to his feet, but the searat shoved his cutlass through the hare's back and into his heart.  
  
It was the Colonel who turned the tide of this skirmish. Letting out dark, guttural howls that one would expect to hear from the wolf tribes and Navura vixen that lived in the north, Jeffrey lunged forward, abandoning all sense and caution and letting his fighting skills and Long Patrol reflexes rise to the surface of his consciousness. He ducked and kicked, stabbed and bit, and paid no heed to the vermin steel that sliced through his fur and flesh.  
  
Jeffrey's foes stood their ground and tried to defend themselves, but Jeffrey would not be deterred. Completely thrown off by this unstoppable storm of fur, the vermin first backed away slowly, and then turned tail and ran. Colonel Jeffrey took several long strides in pursuit of his enemies, but as his senses flooded back and drove his warrior's spirit away, he came to a halt.  
  
When Colonel Jeffrey turned to face the other hares, Merlin was shocked by his appearance. As quick as his charge had been, the Colonel had not escaped without injury. Blood flowed from many gashes along his torso and face, but all but one of the cuts seemed to be shallow. The deepest wound, which ran from the Colonel's left shoulder to the center of his chest, was releasing a steady flow of blood, staining the fur around it a deep crimson.  
  
But the thing that startled Merlin the most was Colonel Jeffrey's face. His ears drooped in a depressing fashion, and Jeffrey cast a melancholy gaze beyond the hares. But beyond the tiredness and exhaustion that appeared like clouds in his eyes, there was a fierce resolve that said the battle would not be over until he lay dead.  
  
"Aid has come," said Jeffrey, his voice flat and emotionless. "We must break through th' vermin to reach 'em." Then he shook his head vigorously, and feeling returned to his voice and alertness to his eyes. "We're gonna charge through th' rotters and meet our rescuers!" he shouted, thrusting his rapier into the air. "Eulaliaaaa!"  
  
Merlin, Mianel, Jeffrey, and the two other hares turned toward the vermin that stood between them and the Redwallers and sprung forward, moving like death on the wind.  
  
As soon as the Redwallers began to attack, Danni faded back into the ranks of her troops, moving swiftly in an attempt to reach the vermins' undefended rear and coordinate the soldiers that would attempt to resist these new enemies. As always, her allies almost seemed to make way for her. Briefly, she thought of what would happen to the creatures that were now engaging the Long Patrol. Esmiel will take care of them, Danni thought. Nodding to herself in confirmation of this thought, the vixen charged ahead.  
  
"Turn around!" she began to yell as she got closer to the Redwallers. Soldiers who were caught by surprise at now being surrounded on two sides did as she asking, bringing their weapons to bear against this new menace. Some vermin were cut down where they stood, but a far greater amount stood their ground and managed to hold their own.  
  
Despite Danni's efforts, the vermin who stood against the Redwallers' charge were outnumbered. Even so, they fought with courage - slicing, slashing, and parrying. By the time the vixen had reached the frontlines, over ten beasts were dead. Looking at the battle that raged around her, she knew that even more would lie slain before the battle was done.  
  
As she had done when she had been fighting the hares, Danni used her speed and evasiveness to their full potential. Stepping around a weasel who was frantically fighting the oncoming Redwallers, she shoved her dagger between a squirrel's ribs. The woodlander's eyes widened in surprise, and she violently pulled herself away from Danni. The fox tried to pull her dagger out from the creature's body, but to her dismay, it stayed lodged in the squirrel's body Danni stumbled away empty-handed, and the squirrel, seemingly in shock, crouched on the ground and clutched her wound.  
  
Silently cursing herself, the vixen regained her footing and glared at the squirrel. How could she have been so careless? She hadn't even considered the possibility that something like this could happen. Now, the dagger which had served her from the beginning of the battle was now out of her reach.  
  
Danni swept her head from side to side in an attempt to find a weapon. In the darkness, she couldn't see very far, but the vague shape of a dead body caught her eye. It lay in the direction of the Redwallers, to the right of the weasel who she had just fought beside and slightly beyond the Redwallers.  
  
Taking a deep breath, she raced toward the body, straining every muscle in her body in an attempt to arm herself before a Redwaller attacked her. A wailing scream rang out to her left, and she knew that the weasel who had been fighting the Redwallers had fallen. Danni had no idea whether or not her enemies were running toward her, and she didn't have time to look - she needed to reach the body and find the weapon the beast had been carrying.  
  
In an instant, she was beside the body. As soon as she reached its side, she knelt down to examine it. The body was that of a ferret, and she could barely make out a deep scar running down the vermin's face as she looked upon his corpse. Danni's eyes shifted up and down, searching the body for any sort of weapon at all.  
  
The vixen spent less than a second searching, but it seemed like an eternity to her. Danni's eyes widened when she finally noticed a blade protruding from beneath the ferret's paw. She reached out and grabbed the blade, which turned out to be part of a shortsword. Grasping the hilt in one paw, Danni rose to her feet.  
  
She was forced to jump aside as soon as she stood upright. A battleaxe came down where she had just stood, wielded with a force that would have split her skull had she not moved. The beast behind the weapon was a burly otter, and Danni's eyes widened in fear as he lifted his axe from where it had hit the ground and turned to face her.  
  
Danni whipped forward, almost too quickly for the otter's eyes to follow, and twisted her blade so the point was directed at his heart. A quick twist of the battleaxe sent the weapon's hilt slamming into the fox's chest, and was probably the only thing that saved the otter's life.  
  
The otter drew the battleaxe back over his shoulder as Danni sucked in her breath. Rising on unsteady feet, she had just enough time to jump away as the head of the battleaxe sliced the air where her stomach had been.  
  
Once again, Danni rushed forward with her new shortsword pointed toward the otter's heart. The otter tried to ward off the attack in a similar manner as he had before, this time pivoting his weapon around so the axehead faced behind his shoulder and the bare end of the hilt could be used to bludgeon Danni away. She ducked and felt the hilt of the battleaxe graze the tip of her ears. Then, she sprung upward and plunged her weapon into the otter's heart.  
  
The fox pulled the shortsword free and let the otter slump to the ground. Three shadowy figures ran toward her through the darkness, and she was debating whether to flee or fight when their words reached her ears.  
  
"That vixen killed Skipper! Get 'er, mates, an' show 'er no mercy!"  
  
"Redwaaaall!"  
  
Danni turned and ran, seeking refuge among the other vermin that had turned around to fight the Redwall reinforcements. The battle was nowhere near done, but she couldn't help but feel that she had turned the odds in the Stormbringer's favor by killing one of Redwall's leaders.  
  
"That vixen killed Skipper! Get 'er, mates, an' show 'er no mercy!"  
  
"Redwaaaall!"  
  
Candice couldn't fully comprehend these words when they penetrated the din of battle. Nevertheless, they fueled her rage. Screaming incoherently, she plunged empty-pawed into a small group of rats and weasels. About a minute ago, a weasel had sent her dirk sailing through the air with a flick of his sword. She hadn't noticed the loss of her weapon, and continued her suicidal attack.  
  
If it weren't for the intervention of Gormin, Candice would have been long dead. Disregarding his duties as Redwall's Champion, Gormin loyally pursued Candice and fought off anybeast whose blade strayed near her. Seeing the beast he loved in such dire danger brought out reserves of strength that the squirrel had not known he possessed. Fueled by his devotion to Candice, his blade swung swift and true.  
  
Heedless of the ally who had followed her, Candice aimed a fierce kick at a surly weasel. Her target leaped away less than a second before her footpaw collided with him. Regaining his bearings quickly, he sliced at Candice's leg with his scimitar.  
  
The first real blow Candice suffered brought her out of her rage, turning her enraged cries and heavy breathing into exclamations of pain. The weasel moved to finish Candice off, but before he could so much raise his blade into the air, Gormin was upon him.  
  
The weasel stood no chance. Without sound, Gormin leaped to Candice's side. Whirling on his footpaw, the squirrel brought his blade around in a long arc. Gormin's sword sliced through the weasel's stomach, and the vermin fell back. Without pausing to see if his adversary was alive or dead, he rounded on Candice.  
  
"Hurry!" he hissed, grasping Candice's paw with his own. "Follow me!"  
  
Candice followed dazedly, trusting Gormin to lead her to safety as she recalled the occurrences of the last few minutes. She remembered seeing a weasel kill a young Long Patroller, and then running down toward the vermin. Only vague images of the battle remained with her - she remembered slicing a ferret's arm with her dirk, and later clubbing a stoat with her bare hands. Candice had no recollection of losing her dirk, but she imagined that it was lying somewhere on the battlefield.  
  
Then there was Gormin. During the wearying march to Salamandastron, he had come across as a brave and ambitious beast, but Candice had not imagined him capable of doing something as noble as following her hopeless charge. From what little she remembered of her frenzy, Candice gathered that he had followed her into the fight, protecting her with his life. That on its own was significant, but in assisting her, Gormin had also left the rest of the Redwallers to fend for themselves. There was definitely something about the squirrel that he kept hidden from other beasts, but Candice was at a loss to what that could be.  
  
Candice blinked and shook her head - she had lost track of her surroundings. In the middle of a battle, at that! Gormin had come to a halt, and was speaking in hushed tones with a slim ottermaid. The squirrel was gesturing frantically, and the otter's eyes were downcast.  
  
"Wot's goin' on, Gormin?" asked Candice.  
  
Gormin turned to her. "Skipper's dead," he said, his voice full of shock. "A vixen slew him while he was fighting the vermin."  
  
Candice's eyes widened. "Skipper's gone?" she asked. She hadn't know the otter well, but from her experiences among the Redwallers, she gathered that he was very respected among the Abbeybeasts. Many beasts had described him as brave, honest, and respectable. "Nobeast is gonna take this very well."  
  
A silence fell for several seconds, punctuated by clashing swords and war cries. Gormin appeared to be lost in thought. His fists were clenched, and his narrowed eyes stared off into space. Candice wondered what would be going through his mind. With Skipper slain, he would be the sole commander of the Redwallers.  
  
Gormin glanced first at the Redwallers, and then out at the vermin. "There will still be Long Patrollers out there," he said. "We need to break through the vermin and reach them. It won't be too hard - if they're caught between us and the Long Patrol, they might scatter."  
  
"That could work," said Candice. "But what if th' vermin try to surround us?"  
  
"They won't manage," answered Gormin. "Once we reach the hares, we're going to keep fighting until we reach the edge of Salamandastron. We'll make our stand there."  
  
Merlin snapped his head up and gazed beyond the vermin he was fighting. Within the mass of vermin that stood between him and the Redwallers, something had shifted. The hare strained his eyes, trying to make out the cause of the disturbance. It seemed as if more vermin were turning away from the Long Patrollers. Hope flared within Merlin's heart. Were the Redwallers pushing forward?  
  
The young hare redoubled his efforts. Beside him, Mianel fought doggedly. Further to his left, Colonel Jeffrey, tired but determined, led the attack. About a score of hares had been present when Jeffrey began the push, and more had joined when they saw his intentions. The battle was fierce, and the Long Patrol seemed to lose more ground than they gained. Only now, the vermin seemed to be faltering.  
  
Colonel Jeffrey took notice, as well. "Charge! Slay th' blighters! Break their lines for Lord Rocketh! Eulaliaaaa!"  
  
The hares pushed forward, making slow progress. Merlin made no attempts to sidestep the enemy blows, impeded as he was by Salamander. He fought to push his opponents backward rather than trying to kill them. Without fail, his opponents would slip away from the reach of his dirk and clear the path further for the Long Patrol.  
  
Merlin didn't know how long the fight went on like this. He found himself combating a lone weasel, who stood firmly in place and refused to give ground. Merlin stepped forward and thrusted his dirk toward the vermin, but the weasel stepped back and brought his broadsword out to parry the blow. Merlin withdrew as quickly as he could. There was no way he could get past that broadsword with a dirk. But with Salamander...  
  
Merlin flicked his wrist, sending the dirk spinning toward the weasel. The vermin brought up his blade just in time to send the dirk clattering to the ground. By this time, Merlin's paws were already working at the straps that held Salamander's sheath to his back. By the time the weasel began advancing toward him, Merlin had loosened the straps and brought the sheath out in front of him. The weasel walked on, and Merlin grasped for Salamander's hilt with one paw and held the sheath with the other. With a mighty pull, Merlin drew Salamander from its sheath.  
  
His attempts to defend himself were pointless. Before the weasel reached him, a blade slid through the vermin's stomach. As quickly as it had appeared, the blade withdrew, letting the corpse slump to the ground.  
  
The weasel's slayer stepped over the vermin's dead body, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. The squirrel looked at Merlin, smiled briefly, and called over his shoulder. "We've found the hares!"  
  
When the squirrel turned back, the smile had vanished. He strode over to Merlin's side, holding his blade at the ready. His eyes moved back and forth, scrutinizing the battlefield around him. Without looking at Merlin, the squirrel spoke. "My name is Gormin. I'm Redwall's Champion. Who's in charge here?"  
  
"Colonel Jeffrey," responded Merlin. Unable to display the same conduct as Gormin, he looked up at the squirrel's face. Although it was turned away, the hare could faintly make out the squirrel's hard eyes. "He's over t' my left, er, your right, leadin' the attack," he stammered. "He's the hare you're lookin' for."  
  
Gormin nodded, paying no heed to the hare's awkwardness. "Thank you," he said, preparing to move on. Then he paused. "Be ready to reverse your attack," he said, and then ran toward Colonel Jeffrey.  
  
As the squirrel approached Jeffrey, the Colonel stood stock still, gazing at the fighting taking place around him. When it became apparent that the Redwallers were breaking through the vermin ranks, he had felt a flash of hope. Now, though, he realized that the vermin would surround the Long Patrol and the Redwallers when they came together. The combined strength of their forces might be enough to stave off the attack, but there would be many deaths - far too many deaths.  
  
"Colonel Jeffrey?" asked Gormin as he approached the tired hare.  
  
"Yes, I'm th' Colonel," he responded enthusiastically, attempting to hide his tiredness with a show of the famous Long Patrol bravado. When Jeffrey realized that the warrior who stood in front of him was not going to be fooled by such an act, he let his face fall and his ears droop.  
  
"Colonel, you must direct your troops to turn around. If the Redwall soldiers continue to charge this way and your troops attack in the opposite direction, we'll be stuck in the middle, surrounded on all sides by vermin."  
  
"What d' you propose we do, then?" asked Jeffrey, letting a note of weariness enter his voice. "If we turn around, we'll be stuck at th' edge o' the cliff. 'twould be better for my hares to keep movin' toward th' tunnel. Y' still hold th' tunnel, don't you?"  
  
Gormin shook his head. "All of my troops abandoned it in our charge. The cliff is a better refuge, however - if all else fails, we can try to scale the mountainside and make our way down to the beach. The tunnel would be too crowded for a retreat."  
  
"But there are hares still inside o' Salamandastron!" exclaimed Jeffrey, practically screaming. "A retreat is out o' the question!"  
  
The squirrel lowered his eyes. "Nothing can be done about it, Colonel. My soldiers have already abandoned the tunnel. We must go forward now, and make our stand. If fate is kind, we'll rescue your comrades."  
  
Jeffrey squeezed his eyes shut and nodded. "I suppose you're correct," he said. Turning around, he raised his rapier in the air and shouted, "Turn around! Head for th' cliffs, and we'll make our stand there!"  
  
Sunai anxiously watched the Redwallers advance from the position he had retreated to when they began their attack. Everything was vague in the darkness, but he could still see the shapes of the wretched beasts as they pushed through his forces. He bit his lip and watched silently at the events playing out before him.  
  
Only shortly after the Redwallers fought their way to the Long Patrol, the beasts began to turn themselves around. They're going to attack, though Sunai. His grip on Stormbringer tightened. I only have a score of warriors left with me. There's no way we can stand against them.  
  
"Stand firm!" bellowed Sunai, calling out to every vermin withing hearing range. "Don't let them kill you! Let them advance, but make them fight for every inch of ground they take!"  
  
As hares, squirrels, mice, and otters charged toward him, Sunai found himself thinking of Danni. She had been the one who lead the attack through the tunnels, and had distracted the hares long enough to allow he and his thirty vermin to attack the Long Patrol from behind. The Redwallers would have caught her by surprise, though. From the shapes he saw on either side and closing behind the advancing goodbeasts, not many vermin had died. But there had surely been casualties - had Danni been among them?  
  
The Stormrat forced down thoughts of his beloved as his foes moved even closer. He raised Stormbringer above his head, and called out its name to the heavens. "Stormbringer!" Before he lowered his gaze, he heard his soldiers cry out, mimicking him.  
  
Then, the enemy was upon him. Sunai brought his blade down with all his might on a young hare. The force of the blow against the Long Patroller's scimitar sent the younger beast stumbling.  
  
Around him, metal clashed as the charge met his own soldiers. They were being pushed back more quickly than Sunai would have liked, but they were putting up a fierce fight. Almost like beasts at the gates of Dark Forest.  
  
A female hare leaped at him, slashing his side with her dirk. Sunai stumbled back, glaring up at the hare as she pressed her attack. Straining his reflexes to their limit, he stood and brought up Stormbringer to block the blow. At the same time, he kicked out with his foot, catching the hare in the stomach. She stumbled back, clutching her stomach with her free paw. Sunai smiled, leaped forward, and brought Stormbringer down in a killing stroke.  
  
But before the blade could strike, it was caught in the air by another. The blade was held by a young hare, and there was determination in his eyes. "Stormrat!" he hissed, straining to keep Stormbringer from coming down on the other hare. Sunai redoubled his efforts, and the hare's strength began to falter.  
  
"Eulalia!" The cry didn't come from the hare whose sword was locked with Sunai's, but from the one he had knocked to the ground. She lunged at the Stormrat's stomach, thrusting her dirk with angry force.  
  
He leaped away, letting the hare tumble to the ground. As Stormbringer and the young hare's sword separated, an intense heat ripped through Sunai's body, as if his insides had been suddenly lit aflame. At the exact same time, the hare's body jerked, and his fur stood on end as if he had been struck by lightning.  
  
Sunai was the first to regain his bearings. As more beasts ran toward him, he backed away, accompanied by the ten vermin who remained alive. A beaten and battered hare, looking as if he were about to faint, shoved his way to the front of the charge and lunged at Sunai. "Eulalia!" he screamed, thrusting his rapier at Sunai's heart.  
  
A blur of fur shot from Sunai's left and collided with the hare. The two beasts fell to the ground, clawing and biting each other savagely. Almost immediately, Sunai's rescuer produced a dagger from his belt and thrust it into the hare's chest. The Long Patroller spasmed briefly, but after several moments of thrashing, he lay still.  
  
"Mark!" exclaimed Sunai, stepping forward to defend the ferret as he regained his feet. "What are you doing here?"  
  
The ferret smirked, and gestured behind Sunai. He turned, and was rewarded with the sight of the remainder of his horde. The Stormrat let the point of his sword fall to the ground. He lifted his head into the sky and let out a vicious laugh.  
  
Merlin had been shocked by the sight of hundreds of vermin coming to the top of the cliff. He had been even more shocked when Colonel Jeffrey, the last ranking hare among the Long Patrol, dived at the Stormbringer and had been subdued by a ferret. Now, as he looked around the battlefield, he realized that the Long Patrollers and Redwallers were completely surrounded.  
  
"Charge," came a voice from Merlin's right. He looked at Mianel questioningly. Her face was grim, and she held her dirk with an iron grip. "Th' Champion o' Redwall says to charge. We're not t' stop runnin' until we feel beach sand beneath our feet."  
  
"Eulalia!" howled Merlin, and ran forward. Mianel kept up with him easily, slowed down as he was by Salamander. A stream of Long Patrollers and Redwallers rushed forward, waving their weapons threateningly. It was a bluff, of course - their real objective was to escape.  
  
An instant before the goodbeasts clashed with the vermin, Merlin caught sight of the Stormrat he had fought. He was grinning darkly, displaying his triumph for all the mountain to see. Then, he and Mianel were among the enemy, lashing out left and right with their weapons.  
  
Dagger, swords, and other weapons of warfare slashed through the air around Merlin as he continued to charge onward. At the edge of his vision, Mianel was making a similar effort. Merlin felt something clash against Salamander. His instincts and his orders told him to abandon the sword, but he had made a promise. Merlin heaved the sword over his shoulder and resumed the charge, slamming himself against the vermin in his path.  
  
Then, he was running on air. The ground fell away beneath his feet, and Merlin was falling. He hit the mountainside with a crash, and tumbled downward toward the beach. He rolled halfway down before he managed to bring himself to a stop.  
  
Merlin fought to regain his feet. His left arm stung, and he felt sore all over his body. Still, he was able to move. Merlin was about to continue his descent when he realized that he had lost Salamander.  
  
His eyes frantically surveyed the mountainside. Where had he left it? He tried to remember when his paw had released its grip on the sword, but all he could remember was a jumble of rolling and pain.  
  
"Merlin!" Merlin snapped his gaze toward the source of the voice. Mianel stood on the mountainside, smiling down at him. In her paws, she carried Salamander.  
  
"Let's go, Mia!" called Merlin. He began to run, ignoring the aches and pains that had suddenly sprung up in his legs.  
  
When he finally felt sand on his paws, Merlin was tempted to fall to his knees and cry. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to get back up. There would be a lot of running to do tonight.  
  
Sunai stared down the mountainside. Such a reckless charge... whoever organized it had his grudging respect. It couldn't have been easy to sacrifice so many beasts - more than fourscore had been slain by Laskit's reinforcements, and there had almost certainly been more casualties during the descent.  
  
"'scuse me, sir, but I'm ready to organize a pursuit." Sunai glanced at the beast who had approached him. Laskit.  
  
"That won't be necessary, Laskit," he answered. "Our troops are probably exhausted, and a descent down the mountain might cause more deaths than we can afford. For now, let us survey what we've won."  
  
Laskit nodded, and turned toward the tunnel that led into the mountain. Without a moment's pause, Sunai followed. If Danni were still alive, she would find him. 


	18. Chapter Eighteen

The mouse stirred, as if his sleep had been somehow disturbed by the approaching morning. His eyes flickered open, and in the slowly brightening darkness that exists in the hours before dawn, he glimpsed a lone ferret staring at him from between two trees. On his left, his daughter slept peacefully, undisturbed by their silent watcher. The mouse sat up stiffly, fixing his gaze upon the creature who had awakened him.  
  
As the mouse moved, the ferret reached for a dagger which hung at his side. The mouse watched warily as the ferret lifted his weapon. He fought the urge to reach for his sword, which leaned against a tree to his right. Instead, he gazed calmly at the ferret, lifting both paws in front of him in a gesture of peace.  
  
"My name is Agian," said the mouse, noticing the ferret's grip on his dagger tighten. "My daughter and I have journeyed here from across the mountains to the east, searching for a place called Redwall Abbey. I beseech you to let us pass in peace."  
  
The ferret shook his head. "I don't see why I should jus' let ye pass. That blade ye have there don't look too shabby, an' if ye're well off enough t' be runnin' around with such a large sword, I'm sure yer daughter is carryin' some nice trinkets with 'er."  
  
"I'm afraid that she has nothing of value, my friend," said Agian, feigning regret. "All we carry is my sword, her bow, arrows, and the clothes on our backs."  
  
The ferret frowned, considering Agian's words. After several moments, he smiled. "I suppose I'll have t' settle for yer sword then."  
  
Agian planted his footpaws on the ground, preparing to leap up. "I regret that I cannot give it to you. This sword was given to me by a beast who saved my life. I vowed to her that I would keep it safe."  
  
"Ye don't have t' worry. That sword'll be jus' fine with me." The ferret's smile widened into a grin, and he moved forward. Agian sprung to his footpaws as soon as the vermin began advancing. His sword was too far away to reach, but the ferret's only weapon seemed to be the dagger he held in his paw. If the ferret was unable to stab him with his blade, he could easily subdue the beast.  
  
"There's no reason for us to fight," said Agian dangerously. "If you leave us in peace, there will be no cause for bloodshed."  
  
"The only blood shed here'll be yers and yer daughter's!" The ferret snarled and lunged toward Agian, thrusting his dagger out in front of him. The mouse dodged to the side, snapping his paw out to grasp the ferret's wrist. He felt his attacker's fur glide through his paw, but he only managed to catch several tufts of brown fur.  
  
The ferret flew past Agian, and whirled around to face his target again. He still wore the vicious snarl on his face, but Agian's competence in battle seemed to shake him. "Don't come any closer, ye bastard!" he yelled out, thrusting his dagger in a manner meant to intimidate the mouse. "The rest o' my mates are sleepin' only a half hour away from 'ere. Come any closer, an' I'll lead them right to ye!"  
  
Agian thought quickly, forcing himself to think over his rapidly beating heart. This ferret isn't that much of a threat, but a group of them... even with the sword that mouse gave me, Drema and I could only handle a few of them. I need to kill him now, before he can run off to his friends.  
  
Agian leaped across the distance separating him from his attacker, moving far quicker than the ferret had. The vermin also lunged, driving his dagger toward Agian's chest. As he had before, Agian made a grab for the ferret's wrist.  
  
As he and the ferret drew close, Agian felt his paw close around his opponent's wrist. Without pause, he yanked the vermin toward him, twisting the wrist which held the dagger. The ferret yelped in pain, but clung to his weapon with determination. He lashed out with his footpaws and twisted his head forward, snapping at the paw which was clamped firmly around his wrist.  
  
The mouse's grip tightened, and tears of pain began to leak from the ferret's eyes. The paw which had held the dagger so firmly began to loosen. As Agian squeezed harder, the ferret began to whimper in pain. Finally, when it came too much for the beast to bear, he let go of his dagger. Seeing that the beast was no longer a threat, Agian released his grip on the beast's wrist.  
  
"Please, don't hurt me," blubbered the ferret, holding his paws out in front of him in a useless gesture of protection. "I promise I won't bother ye again. I'll leave yer daughter alone, too! Jus' let me go back t' my tribe, an' I'll forget all this ever happened!"  
  
A spark of pity formed in Agian's heart, but he squashed it firmly. This was no time to be feeling sorry for a beast who had tried to steal his sword and threatened to kill him and Drema. After all, hadn't the ferret said that he'd run to his tribe for help?  
  
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you go," said Agian. He rose a paw to calm the panic that rose in the ferret's eyes. "My daughter and I could take you with us until we get far enough past your tribe to safely risk letting you go. There's no reason for me to kill you, but I can't jus-"  
  
The ferret spun around and ran for the trees. Agian was caught so off- guard that by the time he began moving, the ferret had almost ducked out of his vision.  
  
But before the ferret could make an escape, an arrow flew past Agian and lodged itself in the vermin's leg. With a despairing cry, the ferret's knees buckled under him and he fell to the ground. Agian turned to behold his daughter Drema nocking another arrow to the string of her shortbow. Aiming carefully, the young mouse drew back the bowstring and prepared to let the arrow fly.  
  
"Should I put him out of his misery, father?" asked Drema, keeping her piercing gaze focused on her target. Blood slowly leaked out of the wound caused by her first arrow, and the ferret continued to sob in pain and fear. Slowly, the ferret turned to face her.  
  
"Mercy, please!" The ferret began to crawl forward, but stopped when he saw Drema adjusting her aim so that her arrow would pierce his throat. "I wouldn't wanna see a pretty mousemaid like yerself become a murderer. Please, look in yer pretty heart an' spare my worthless life!"  
  
"Compliments will get you nowhere after you tried to kill my father," snapped Drema. "Do I kill him or not?"  
  
After a long pause, Agian answered. "We must kill him," he said sadly. Silently, he berated himself for being such a fool. If he hadn't told the ferret that he and his daughter were searching for Redwall Abbey, there would be no reason to think of him as a threat. But without knowing how many companions the ferret had, it would be foolish to risk bringing their wrath down on themselves and Redwall. "I'm sorry," he said to the ferret, "but you know too much about us. Drema, please don't let him suffer."  
  
The mousemaid's aim faltered. "Father... it would be more painless to kill him with your sword." She gently loosened the bowstring and removed the arrow. "I don't think I could bear to shoot another arrow at him."  
  
Agian nodded, and walked over to the tree which his sword leaned against. He took the blade from its sheath and walked back over to the ferret. The mouse stared at the beast for a long time, holding the sword tightly in his hands. Finally, he let the sword sink to the ground. He kneeled down in front of the ferret, and placed one paw on his shoulder.  
  
"It would be foolish to let you walk free, but neither my daughter nor myself can bring ourselves to kill you in cold blood. It was one thing when you had the dagger, but now that you're injured and helpless, it would be murder. That leaves us with only one choice. We must take you with us to Redwall."  
  
The ferret stared into Agian's eyes. After several moments, he lowered his eyes to the ground and nodded. "Thank ye fer yer mercy... Agian. I vow I'll come quietly."  
  
Drema snorted. "As if we can trust the word of a murderous vermin like you."  
  
"Drema." The younger mouse, heeding her father's reprimanding tone, nodded slowly. "Fix up his leg," Agian continued. "Redwall will take a few days to reach, and I don't want the ferret's limp to slow us down. By the way, what is your name?"  
  
"My name is Rithan," answered the ferret as Drema knelt next to him to tend his injured leg.  
  
After their defeat at Salamandastron, the forces of Redwall marched slowly through the night. The seemingly superhuman speed and vigor which had possessed them as they rushed to the assistance of Salamandastron had fled them, and long hours of marching and the vicious fighting that had taken place began to take their toll. Still they pressed on, striving to put a safe distance between themselves and the mountain stronghold before they dared to rest.  
  
On the other hand, the Long Patrollers marched onward with determination, although they were faced with a deep despair that none of them had felt before. Not only had their beloved stronghold fallen, but many of their most seasoned officers had been killed and their Badger Lord was brutally slain. Furthermore, many innocent hares were still trapped within Salamandastron, left at the mercy of the Stormbringer.  
  
The two downcast armies seemed to blend together as they made their way toward Redwall. What little talking arose between the marching beasts was subdued. The swishing of footpaws moving through the sand filled the night air, occasionally pierced by a heart-rending sob or a bitter whisper.  
  
Merlin had no idea how long he had been marching - judging by the faint light visible in the east, a couple hours had passed since the events at Salamandastron. The sword Salamander was strapped safely across his back, and Mianel walked beside him, easily keeping pace with the less experienced hare. Although only a few words had passed between them while they marched, they stayed close together in an effort to provide companionship to one another.  
  
The young hare found Mianel's company reassuring, likening her presence to that of a watchful warrior guarding his sleep with a dagger in her paw. He supposed such a feeling sprung from their cooperation on the slopes of Salamandastron, where each hare placed their lives in the paws of the other. In less than an hour, their fellowship in battle and the occasional banter which they had exchanged amidst the fighting had created a bond as firm as the trust long-time friends bore for one another.  
  
The beast marching in front of Merlin and Mianel sunk down to the ground. By the light of the approaching dawn, Merlin could easily make out the figure of a squirrel. Kneeling down beside the exhausted fighter, Merlin offered her his paw. Gratefully, the squirrel grabbed the extended paw and pulled herself to her footpaws. The Redwaller's eyes widened in surprise as she felt a paw grip her other shoulder. Glancing to his left, Merlin saw Mianel smiling at the squirrelmaid. "M' companion an' I will help you along if y' can't walk on your own." The squirrel nodded, and allowed the two hares to help her in their march.  
  
Sarendy was the squirrel's name. After she had introduced herself to Mianel and Merlin, she hesitantly struck up a conversation with them. "I've never fought before," she confessed, a tear forming in her eye. "When I left Redwall to help fight the Stormrats, I never thought wars were like this." Sniffing, she continued. "During the battle, I was too nervous to shoot my bow properly. I took out my sword, but if it hadn't been for some of the older beasts I would have been killed."  
  
Mianel squeezed Sarendy's shoulder sympathetically. "This is Merlin's first war, too. He has Long Patrol training, but I'm sure he was as afraid as you. Able t' control himself better, but deep down inside I'm sure he wanted to turn tail an' flee, wot wot?"  
  
"Deep down inside?" said Merlin, smiling sheepishly. "Running wasn't th' first thing that leaped t' mind, but now that I look back on it, it was th' one thing I wanted t' do. If I hadn't been trained so well, I probably would've split."  
  
His comment caused Sarendy to smile briefly, a gesture that brought a smile to his own face. "What about you, Mia?" he asked, attempting to keep the lighthearted conversation going. "You can't be more'n a few seasons older than me. How was th' battle for you, fighter girl?"  
  
"I have a lot more bally experience under my belt than either o' you two leverets," said Mianel with a grin. "I can't say fightin' comes easy t' me now, but it's certainly less difficult for me than when I was your age."  
  
Curiosity filled Merlin as his new friend mentioned her previous experiences. "Jus' wot sort o' experience d'you have under that belt, Mia?" he asked, feeling his ears perk up in response to his sudden attentiveness. "I wanna know th' kind o' edge your seasons have given you."  
  
Mianel grinned. "I'd tell you, but I don't think I could make a decent story outta my life without some time t' think. Besides," she said, gesturing to the front of the group of marching beasts. "I think we're stoppin' here, an' I'd rather rest than talk."  
  
Merlin nodded, and the Redwallers and Long Patrollers slowly came to a halt. All around Merlin, beasts dropped to their knees, thankful for the chance to rest. Gently, Merlin and Mianel lowered Sarendy to the ground. Once the squirrel had positioned herself as comfortably as possible, the two hares sat down next to her. Merlin shifted himself until he was comfortable, then lay down on his side.  
  
"G'night," he said quietly, before sleep overtook him.  
  
The Badger Lord's room was, in fact, nothing impressive. Although the room was spacious, and seemed welcoming enough, the lack of finery surprised Sunai. He felt a lingering disappointment at not finding a wondrous room, fit for a king of the shorelines. Was Salamandastron, the mountain fortress which struck awe into the hearts of searats when it first came into view over the horizon, so unimpressive?  
  
However, another, more earthly part of Sunai approved of the room. The cushioned ledge that provided the Badger Lord a place on which to rest was simple, and without unnecessary comforts. Sunai had lived most of his life traveling, whether across plains, mountains, and forests, or on the deck of a ship. In that time, he learned that beasts who pampered themselves found it difficult to adjust to the realities of war. Over the seasons, Sunai had slept on beds of sand, forest needles, wooden decks, and rocky mountains. Occasionally, he had been forced to sleep through rainstorms without any protection from the elements.  
  
Of course the badgers would sleep in rough rooms. After all, what use would a mountain fortress be if the Lord of the Mountain was fearful of discomfort? Sunai surmised that the dormitories used by the Long Patrol were similar, which would undoubtedly come as a disappointment to some of the vermin who had been looking forward to sleeping in a cozy bed.  
  
As the Stormbringer assessed advantages and disadvantages of the Badger Lord's chamber, he was barely aware of a pair of paws softly padding across the stone floor behind him. A smile crept across his face. She sought to catch him unawares, did she?  
  
Waiting patiently until the vixen was within his reach, he whirled around, grabbing Danni's wrist. She let out a startled yelp, but the expression of surprised on her face faded when she saw Sunai's face. The vixen smiled slowly, and Sunai grinned.  
  
"What the hell am I thinking?" he said aloud, gesturing at the surrounding room with his free hand. "A badger's bed would be big enough for almost any two beasts, but there's no way it could comfortably fit both of us. We need to find different quarters."  
  
Danni laughed. "That shouldn't be too hard. If all else fails, we can push two of the beds from the downstairs dormitories together."  
  
"How big are the dormitories?" asked Sunai.  
  
"Big enough to house us," said Danni. "I'm sure that if we talked to Laskit, he'd get us a room that we could share." Laskit was the most organized beast in the Stormbringer's army, so Sunai had instructed him to find rooms for the beasts who survived the battle, take stock of Salamandastron's supplies, and become acquainted with the layout of the mountain. Sunai made a mental note to find Laskit before he went to bed.  
  
Without any hesitation, Sunai let go of Danni's wrist and headed for the door. As he moved toward the exit, he began to feel an overwhelming desire to leave the room. Not just the room, but the whole mountain. Unwittingly, he started to move faster.  
  
Sunai darted through the doorway leading out of the badger's chambers, suddenly glad that he had left the doors open. The corridor was brighter than the Badger Lord's bedroom had been, partly because there were more windows and partly because there were burning torches placed at the corners of the hallway. As soon as his footpaws entered the hallway, his desire to leave faded.  
  
Danni's paw reached out to touch Sunai's arm. "What's the matter?" she asked.  
  
Sunai stared back into the room. "If I had to guess, I'd say that the Badger Lords were trying to chase me out." Sunai tried to laugh, but it came out shakily. Danni's face was a mixture of concern and confusion. Before the vixen could respond, Sunai grabbed her paw. "We'll find Laskit."  
  
They found the searat tactician milling about in the corridors lower in the mountain, assigning everybeast a dormitory. He seemed nervous, and held something wrapped in cloth. When Sunai and Danni approached him, he straightened.  
  
"There seem t' be enough rooms t' house everybeast in yer army with no doublin' up, sir," said Laskit. "I judge that there're enough supplies t' keep us fed fer at least a couple seasons. We've also found several hares still in th' mountain. Some groups o' hares were huddled in th' entrances that th' badger blocked. There were also a few tryin' t' set fire t' th' crops on th' side o' th' mountain. Yer soldiers managed t' put out th' fire before all th' crops were destroyed, but many were bunt before we could extinguish th' blaze."  
  
Sunai smiled. "Keep the prisoners on half rations. If they're week, they won't be likely to stage a rebellion. Our own soldiers will need to rest as well. I think we can afford to keep the mountain weakly guarded for a few days. Then, we'll set somebeasts to guarding and some to recruiting. When do you expect my ships to get here?"  
  
"It'll take 'em 'bout four days, sir," answered Laskit, shifting uncomfortably. "I'm sure th' beasts ye left behind'll be glad t' see that they don't need t' fight. Now, there's one thing that ye shou-"  
  
"Danni and I also need a room," interrupted Sunai. "Preferably one with a large bed and a fireplace."  
  
"I know one that ye'll like," said Laskit. He gripped the package in his hand tightly, and nervously led Sunai and Danni down the hall.  
  
The room he recommended fit Sunai's criteria perfectly. There was a large bed, big enough for Sunai and Danni to sleep in, and a fireplace built near it with a chimney leading up through the mountain. There was also a small window at the other end of the room, far enough away from the bed that Sunai and Danni wouldn't get cold if the wind was icy.  
  
"It'll do nicely, Laskit," said Sunai absently, starting a fire using the firewood stacked in the corner next to the fireplace. "Now, about Meist. We don't want him sleeping near the rest of the soldiers. Maybe further up the mountain?"  
  
"That won't be necessary," said Laskit softly. He threw the package he had been holding to Sunai. The Stormrat caught it and looked up at Laskit. At the searat's nod, he opened it.  
  
Sunai stared long and hard at the disembodied head inside. His brother met his gaze with sightless eyes.  
  
"I found 'im in a chamber with some other deadbeasts. Some were from Redwall, some were ours. From th' looks of it, th' beast who sliced off 'is head was a mouse. That murderin' beast was long dead."  
  
"You're excused," said Sunai. Laskit nodded, and hastened out, shutting the door silently behind him. Sunai turned to Danni, still holding his dead brother's head in his hands. "You got Meist killed?"  
  
"I'm sorry," she answered. "I left him behind to hold off pursuers. It looks like the Redwallers got the best of him." Danni sat down on the bed, staring at Sunai. She seemed fearful of what he might do.  
  
Sunai stood. "I should thank you," he answered. "The only reason I didn't kill him myself was that he was my brother. The beasts in my horde would start to wonder." Almost carelessly, Sunai tossed the head of his brother into the flames. He stared intently as the fur on his brother's face burnt away and his flesh began to burn. Flames crept into Meist's nose and licked at his eyelids. After several minutes, his eyes began to melt in their sockets, oozing down the Stormrat's already disfigured face.  
  
The Stormbringer did not tear his eyes away from his dead brother's head until it was a mass of charred flesh. The stench of the beast's burning tissues filled the small room, slowly creeping away through the chimney and the window. Absently, Sunai reached for the stack of firewood and tossed a pair of logs into the fire. The burning wood which Meist's head sat upon shifted and cracked under the weight of the new logs, and the head dropped closer to the base of the fire.  
  
Satisfied, Sunai stood and turned to Danni. The vixen was staring at the fire, enraptured by the flames. For the first time in a long while, superstitious feelings overtook her. Shivering, she grabbed the wool blankets on the bed and pulled them over herself. Sunai smiled, joining her underneath the covers.  
  
"Now," he said, "I am the last Stormrat." With a gentleness and happiness that he rarely displayed, he reached out for Danni's shoulders and drew her close. 


End file.
